


from bruises flowers grow

by elinciacrimea



Series: heritors [1]
Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: AU: Celica's Chapter Five Is Less Bad, AU: Recruitable Rinea, AU: Rinea Lives, Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Fix-It, Gen, Recovery, also it might look like berkut/rinea at first but uh. it isn't. trust me., some character endings changed as well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 02:09:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elinciacrimea/pseuds/elinciacrimea
Summary: "She has her beauty, Mother says. If she just behaves herself, the world could be theirs, and hers too. So sit up straight, Rinea, and sip your tea with one pinky out, and dance the right way with tiny steps and no passion at all, and never, ever talk back to your elders and betters. Rinea strives to reshape and mold herself into the daughter they want, one who smiles and curtsies prettily. One who doesn't spend time out in the garden digging in the dirt, or baking with the servants, or learning white magic to heal injured baby birds. One who doesn't flush when pretty maids pass her by, one who will secure a high-ranking noble husband. That's all they want for her, and eventually, Rinea fools herself into thinking that's what she wants too. At age sixteen, Rinea is ushered from her garden, and she goes to a ball, with an invitation her parents fought and schemed to secure. And against all odds, the most noble suitor of all takes interest. Is it any wonder things turned out the way they did?"She's always been known for her boundless love. But now it's time for Rinea to learn how to love the subject she finds most difficult of all - herself.Warning for emotional abuse. Not a Berkut-friendly fic.





	1. with grace in your heart

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a fit of rage induced by the Heroes Berkut alt, Rinea being his literal accessory, and the wave of Berkut apologism that followed in its wake. 
> 
> Again, this is NOT a Berkut or Berkut/Rinea-friendly fic, and if that's not something that sits well with you, you might want to turn back now. Warning for domestic abuse, largely emotional.

Alone in the garden, Rinea dances.

Her arms lifted above her head, she twirls and leaps between the geraniums and the snapdragons. She blows a kiss to the watching hummingbirds as she turns, her hair fanning out in an arc behind her, alight with the afternoon sun. Her bare feet, stained with grass, follow a pattern all their own, a fictional music echoed by the canaries and sparrows, and her old floral sundress becomes a ballgown as she lifts it daintily to follow the next step.

In these instances, she feels like somebody else. Somebody free, somebody courageous and heroic, somebody who -

"Rinea!"

Rinea trips and falls into the petunias.

"I thought I'd find you out here," her mother grumbles, shoving open the garden gate. "Daydreaming and wasting time, as usual."

Rinea spits out a mouthful of leaves, struggling out of the flowers and to her feet.

"Honestly." Rinea's mother surveys her, brow tight and lips pursed. "Look at the state of you!"

Rinea looks. The already-sorry dress is covered with dirt and leaves, and her feet aren't much better. Her hair has flower petals in it. "I'm sorry, Mother."

Her mother sighs. "Come along, now. We must get you ready. You're going to be late."

"Yes, Mother." Rinea hastens after her, back into the manor, where she is thoroughly scolded, washed, pinched, and prodded, stuffed into a dress two sizes too small. Her hair is swept up with pins that dig into her scalp, paint is smeared on her face in an effort to make it more attractive, her feet are forced into slippers that are absolutely dreadful for dancing, and then she is hurried into the family's finest carriage. For today, as her mother has told her countless times, she is going to make something of herself. Today is the day of the ball.

"I want you to make eye contact, Rinea," says her mother as the carriage bumps along the roads to Rigel Castle. "But not too forward, mind. Demure, that's the word."

"Yes, Mother."

"Don't speak out of turn," says her father. "Otherwise you'll cause a fuss."

"Yes, Father."

"And do remember to smile," her mother adds. The carriage rumbles to a stop in front of Rigel Castle. It's huge, towering, a giant nestled among the snow-capped mountains, and Rinea quails at the very sight of it, her toe-pinching shoes forgotten in the face of the massive wall of stone.

Her parents sweep from the carriage and up to the castle gates like they've been doing it all their life (they haven't - the most significant ball they've ever been to was thrown by a duke, some years ago.) There's a line of carriages outside, and Rinea notes that all of them, down to the very last, are fancier than her family's. Still, the guards check their invitations and they're all ushered inside. The crowds are tremendous, their eyes are piercing, and it's all Rinea can do not to flee the cold stone walls and colder eyes.

Rinea takes wine when offered, but it burns in her throat and it's all she can do not to choke. The food is rich and turns her already-sour stomach, and the conversation's worse. As trained, she speaks with the young men around her age, but they nearly all brush her off, and even the ones who spare a word or two out of pity quickly come up with some sort of excuse upon hearing her surname and dart off. A dance invitation is entirely out of the question, as tempting as the smooth, round floor looks with all the elegantly-clad people twirling across it. Rinea can't locate her parents in all the crowds, and it's not like they'd be any comfort if she could.

Her feet feel sore even though she hasn't danced, the bright lights are worsening the pin-induced headache, and Rinea desperately wants to be back in her garden. She breaks away from the crowd and their stares and mutters, and pulls away off towards a solitary corner. From there, she lifts her skirt and hurries through the ballroom doors and down a deserted corridor. There, she leans against the wall, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths.

Rinea doesn't belong in this world. Why is she even trying? Because it's what her parents want, and she wants to please them, to keep the peace, but she can't do the impossible…

"You there. What are you doing?"

Rinea looks up, lost in thought. "Hmm?"

She locks eyes with the speaker, and it takes her a moment to recognize him, and when she does, terror floods her. "L-Lord Berkut!" Rinea scrambles to stand straight and then curtsies as low as she can manage in the horrible gown. "Pray, forgive me, my lord. I did not mean to give offense..."

Rinea does dance that night, not in a ballroom with a nobleman's son, but in a cramped little hallway with the kingdom's crown prince, for once going above and beyond her parents' expectations.

(Later on, she'll consider it the most dreadful mistake she made in all her life.)

\---

Rinea has always been a coward.

When her father yells, when her mother scoffs - she'll do anything to please them, to soften the daggers in their eyes. She has her beauty, Mother says. If she just behaves herself, the world could be theirs, and hers too. So sit up straight, Rinea, and sip your tea with one pinky out, and walk a mile with books balanced on your head, and dance the right way with tiny steps and no passion at all, and never, ever talk back to your elders and betters.

Rinea listens to it all. She strives to reshape and mold herself into the daughter they want, one who smiles and curtsies prettily. One who doesn't spend time out in the garden digging in the dirt, or baking with the servants, or learning white magic to heal injured baby birds, or befriending the manor's landscaper. One who doesn't flush when pretty maids pass her by, one who will secure a high-ranking noble husband. That's all they want for her, and eventually, Rinea fools herself into thinking that's what she wants too.

At age sixteen, Rinea is ushered from her garden, and she goes to a ball, with an invitation her parents fought and schemed to secure. And against all odds, the most noble suitor of all takes interest.

(Is it any wonder things turned out the way they did?)

\---

Berkut is forceful. Berkut is fearless. While insecurities plague Rinea and hamper her every step, Berkut seems to have not a worry in the world. With utmost confidence, he asks her to dance, and it's more of a command than an invitation, one Rinea would never have dreamed of rejecting to start with. With a self-assured grace, Berkut courts her, brings her to the most extravagant places in the kingdom, charms her parents with his title and wealth. And, on Rinea's seventeenth birthday, Berkut brings her to the royal garden and proposes with a ring that had been his mother's, and of course, she says yes. Why wouldn't she? She's in love, after all.

Oh, there were signs from the beginning, and later she'll feel like the greatest fool for letting them all pass her by. Berkut is quick to anger - she watches him fire servants for the smallest of mistakes in flower arrangements and menu confusions. Berkut talks about battle the way Rinea would talk about triple-layer chocolate cake - with a lustful look in his eyes and a longing tone (and if Rinea dwells on that, it frightens her, so she chooses not to.) Despite her repeated, quiet protests, Berkut brings Rinea to the training yard and insists she sit in on his matches as he lays most of the Rigel army flat on their backs with a twirl of his lance. Speaking up is as terrifying now as it was when Rinea is a child - so she tries, but when her pleas fall on deaf ears, she stops pushing them, and simply closes her eyes to avoid watching the lances clash and fall, twisting her engagement ring around one finger.

But, regardless, Rinea is happy. She's done what her parents wanted her to - no, she's gone above and beyond. She has the most noble husband it's possible to arrange. And her parents are happy with her, happier than they've ever been.

And needless to say, Rinea loves Berkut. He's commanding, he's courageous, he's handsome - what more is she supposed to want? And she doesn't want any more, it's the truth. They'll live happily together, happily ever after, and Rinea doesn't care about anything else.

Rinea goes to the royal palace and takes a room there while arrangements for the wedding are made. And then, suddenly, postponed - war has surged onto the continent, the king of Zofia is dead, and everything is about to change.

\---

Zofia Castle is beautiful. It's towering and elegant, designed not for function but for form, all style and, according to Berkut, relatively little substance. Hardly the stronghold that Rigel Castle is known to be. But Rinea cares for none of that - what she cares about are the elegant embroidered tapestries, the wide balconies that overlook the sweeping grounds and beautiful flower gardens, the heavily-decorated parlors, and the impressive high-ceilinged hallways.

Above all, there is the ballroom. It's huge, multi-storied and towering up through several floors. The dance floor reflects dozens of chandeliers, filling the room with golden, soft light when lit - and to make Rinea smile, Berkut has them lit. Every day during their stay, Rinea and Berkut go there, and waltz together, no music and nobody watching, no burdens and no nobility on their shoulders, and Rinea is just a girl in love, and those are the happiest times. Her feet float across the ballroom floor, and she twirls and Berkut catches her, and there is nothing to fear, nothing to dread, just the two of them in the gentle gold warmth of the candlelight.

But the rest...the rest is only war, and suffering, and Rinea detests the rest. On the day where it all begins to end, Desaix ushers Berkut from the ballroom and out to the balcony, with news of the rebel army arriving on the castle's doorstep. Rinea follows the men, her heart sinking as they arrive on the lovely, sunset-lit balcony and gaze down at the men who will bring about the end of Rinea's life as she knows it.

"So this is the so-called Deliverance," says Berkut, a lazy arm tossed across Rinea's shoulders as he peers over the edge, nose lifted as though smelling something unpleasant. "What a disheveled herd of clodhoppers!"

Clodhoppers with swords, Rinea thinks, risking a glance down before averting her eyes once more. Clodhoppers with big, dangerous, pointy weapons. Clodhoppers whose blood is about to soak into the Zofian fields.

Duma, protect her.

"I couldn't agree more," Desaix rumbles. "Find a comfortable seat, Lord Berkut. The Empire's finest general need not trouble himself with such rabble. You may watch from on high as my finest troops cut them down like wheat."

"I may just take you up on that offer," says Berkut. "Shall we, Rinea?"

Revulsion curls in Rinea's stomach, along with a wave of nausea, and her words come out faster than she can stop them. "I have no desire to see such bloodshed. War is horrible, and I will make no spectacle of it."

Berkut chuckles, squeezing Rinea's shoulders. "I jest, my dear."

"Mmm." Rinea clenches her hands together, swallows down a retort that comes unbidden and unwanted in her mind, and behaves.

She ignores the rest of Berkut's conversation with Desaix and the other knight. She can't bear not to, and the pounding in her chest is deafening, drowning out everything else.

War is horrible. War is wrong. Rinea doesn't understand how Berkut, always so kind, can speak of it with that loving, admiring tone. It frightens her.

Ignore it, Rinea thinks to herself. Ignore it all, and then it will be over. The alternatives are too frightening to give much thought to.

"Rinea!"

Rinea starts. "Yes, Lord Berkut?"

"I have a promise to make you, my dear. I will succeed His Majesty Rudolf and become the next emperor. I shall rule over the Valentian continent as I was meant to." Berkut curls a finger under Rinea's chin, gently lifting her head. "And you shall be my empress. Does this please you?"

Rinea swallows. _Keep the peace._ "I...do not have words…"

There's a loud roar from below, and Rinea jumps. Berkut raises his eyes and looks over her head to the battlefield below. "...It has begun. I pray this Alm fellow makes the battle at least halfway entertaining."

Desaix clumps off, and Rinea bites her lip, trying to tune out the sounds of shouting and clashing metal from below as Berkut seats himself atop one of Desaix's offered chairs. The green-clad knight - Fernand, Rinea believes - stands to attention beside him. Rinea instead rests on a crate of oranges back towards the castle wall, well away from having a clear view of the carnage below. She could go back inside, but she wants to stay with Berkut, who is staring intently at the fighting, seemingly taking no notice of her. Instead, Rinea folds her hands, closes her eyes, and retreats within herself. It's something she's well used to.

Rinea doesn't watch the battle, so she can't follow, but it seems Desaix loses. The shouting from below increases in volume, and Rinea is jolted from her quiet internal peace as Berkut gets to his feet. "Pathetic. The chancellor is all talk."

"What shall we do now, my lord?" Fernand wrings his hands.

"We cannot hold the castle with my detachment alone. We must retreat. Fernand, you stay with me. We'll join up with our main force in the forest." Berkut sweeps across the balcony. "Come along, Rinea."

"Yes, my lord." Rinea takes his offered arm.

"...You have made an impression, Alm," Berkut grumbles under his breath as they hurry through the castle and out to their horses. "Yes, you have."

(That is the last day Rinea and Berkut ever dance together.)

\---

War rages on, leaving its bloody trail across Zofian soil. Berkut is called to the battlefront, and comes back grumbling furiously to himself, with deep injuries cut across his body that he hardly seems to notice. Rinea tends to him, healing his wounds, and follows him as he travels, lending a gentle ear as she hears about Alm of the Deliverance and his unexpected battle prowess. And Berkut grows angrier, and angrier still, and he rarely speaks except to complain, and Rinea feels alone even when he's sitting right beside her. But she doesn't voice such thoughts. That would be unkind of her. Berkut is working so hard, after all. She should support him. That is her duty.

Berkut and his men are unable to hold the line, and so Alm continues to press forward, closer and closer to the border. As they journey back to the capital, Rinea watches Berkut's posture grow tenser and tenser still, the furrow in his brow deepening with every report of the Deliverance's successes. And as his anger grows, so too does Rinea's fear.

Really, she doesn't care who controls the continent. None of it's ever mattered much to her. But Berkut does, and he will die before he lets Rigel fall, and that thought terrifies Rinea. She doesn't want to lose him.

(She doesn't realize she already has. Or, perhaps more accurately, she never had him to begin with.)

\---

Eventually, they make it back to the capital. Rinea's hopeful - being home again can only lift Berkut's low spirits, pull him out of the darkness. He'll go back to the way he was, she thinks to herself, waiting outside the Rigel throne room as Berkut reports to his uncle. They'll be happy. It'll all be okay.

But Berkut emerges from the room with his shoulders slouched, grumbling to himself. Rinea rushes to him, seeing an approaching cold spell and trying to ward it off with her own warmth. "Berkut, my lord. Have you finished your report to the emperor?"

"Yes." Berkut sighs heavily. "We march for the border."

"Again?" Rinea is unable to hide her wave of surprise and disappointment. "But we only just returned home."

"It was my choice - I had to beg the emperor for a chance at redemption." Berkut scowls, his fists clenching at his sides. "All because of that maggot, Alm! Because of him, I had to sit there while that snake Jedah spat venom at me…I will make him pay for this disgrace a hundredfold!"

Rinea tries to think of anything to say, and finds she cannot.

"Why, Lord Berkut." A woman saunters up to them - one Rinea vaguely recognizes as a member of the Duma Faithful. "What grieves you?"

Berkut groans. "Ugh, Nuibaba. Not you…"

"These halls have been dark without your unique fire to light them, my lord," says Nuibaba smoothly, as if she had received an enthusiastic greeting. "I shall treasure this meeting when I return to my post on Fear Mountain. Master Jedah honors me...yet I hear he has not done the same for you. Perhaps because of your…embarrassing loss at the hands of those rebel scum?"

"You Faithful are in dire need of a lesson on how to speak to nobility," says Berkut dryly. Rinea's relieved he hasn't risen to the bait.

"And I am certain you would be a most fearsome teacher." Nuibaba examines her nails. "Regardless, you wrong me, Lord Berkut. I merely wish to aid you." She has a cold, deadly, _dangerous_ air. Rinea shrinks behind Berkut and tries desperately to be unnoticeable, although Nuibaba hasn't once looked at her. Perhaps it's working.

"Heh." Berkut shakes his head. "How could _you_ help _me?_ All of you claw at the heels of your god while ignoring his first teaching. He wished for men to be strong! Not a pack of supplicating fools."

Rinea privately thinks Berkut has a point.

"So you do not need our power?" Nuibaba asks, lightly running a finger along Berkut's shoulder. "…I see. Then I pray you fare well in your battle at the border. For should you lose… well, I doubt your uncle would give you a third chance. Or is this the fourth?"

Rinea can see Berkut's jaw tense.

"For all your stubborn words, you have some wisdom," Nuibaba continues. "You have seen what the Faithful are capable of in battle. I know it. Father Duma's power is vast, and not to be looked down upon. Lord Jedah even went so far as to offer the Father his own daughters."

Nausea rises in Rinea's throat. Berkut's head snaps up.

"Yes, it's true," says Nuibaba, as if commenting on the weather. "Marla and Hestia both. In turn, the Father rewarded Lord Jedah with incredible magic."

"His own daughters?" Rinea bursts out. "How dreadful!"

She regrets the words as soon as they are out of her mouth, cowering back in fear, but Nuibaba acts as if Rinea hadn't spoken, her eyes only on Berkut. "Do you see now, Lord Berkut? Come to my abode…"

Berkut swallows, hard enough that Rinea can see his throat bob with the force of it. "…Never. Victory over Alm would mean nothing if not won by my own hand."

"So prideful! …Very well. But at least allow me to give you this." Nuibaba waves a hand, and a small panel of shining glass, framed in dusty bronze, appears in her palm. She holds it out, and Berkut, almost automatically, takes it.

"What is this? A mirror?" Berkut tilts the pane, frowning at his own reflection.

"One filled with my sorcery," Nuibaba purrs. "Of course, I believe you when you say you have no need for such…tricks. But one day you may find yourself cornered and without recourse. If that day comes, shatter the mirror."

"I don't need such baubles…" Berkut's voice is hardly above a mumble.

"Are you certain?"

Berkut doesn't answer.

"Think of it as a safeguard, if that helps. Something…just in case. May the tides turn in your favor, my lord." Nuibaba giggles, and then waves her hand once more and vanishes.

"What a terrible woman!" Rinea bursts out, once she's certain the witch is gone. "Taunting you like that…Lord Berkut?"

"Mm." Berkut is still staring at the mirror.

"To think, sacrificing others for power...and one's own family…" Rinea shudders. "I can't even imagine it. What could be worth such a price? And I hate to think what that mirror does..."

"Yes…" Berkut seems to snap back to himself. "Yes, of course." He stows the mirror in his bag. "I'll...dispose of it later. Come. We must prepare to depart."

"Of course, my lord."

"I won't fail again," says Berkut. "You'll see, Rinea. I'll find my redemption at the border."

\---

Berkut does not find his redemption at the border.

"DAMN HIM!" Berkut's fist slams into the wall, and Rinea quails away from the flames of his wrath. _"Why?!_ Why can't I beat him?! To be humiliated so by a commoner…and twice, no less!"

"My lord, please!" Rinea reaches for his arm, wrapping it in her own. "You must try to calm down. You are safe. That's all I need to be - "

"Silence, woman!" Berkut shakes her loose, and Rinea stumbles backwards across the floor. "What could you possibly know?!"

Tears sting at Rinea's eyes. "Berkut…"

"From childhood, all that's ever been asked of me is strength. It is my duty as one born to stand above others. To rule. I've been taught that all my life." Berkut begins to pace the room, his voice rising steadily in volume as he continues. "By my father, my mother… How am I to remain calm in the face of defeat at the hands of peasants?! I even debased myself by making use of that deviant's powers…and it's still not enough?!"

Rinea stares, trying to stop herself from trembling. It's only Berkut. Why is she so afraid?

Berkut's head suddenly snaps up with a grunt, and he stares at the wall opposite. "Who is…" He looks wildly around the room. "Identify yourself!"

"Berkut? What's the matter?" Rinea swallows. "You're frightening me…"

"You don't hear it?" Berkut is looking at the ceiling. "What was that voice…?"

"...What voice?" Rinea clenches her hands together, fear and a desire to flee running through her veins, so powerful she can barely resist it.

"It...it...never mind." Berkut looks back at her. "What are you still doing here?"

"I just - "

"Leave me be."

"I…" Rinea wills herself not to cry. Don't be a child, Rinea. "I...all right." She hastens from the room, rubbing a hand over her eyes.

Berkut always seems so angry lately. Angry with everyone, including Rinea. When was the last time he held her? The last time he said he loved her? Rinea can't even remember.

But it will be okay. She loves him, doesn't she? That's enough.

That must be enough.

\---

Alm charges Rigel Castle. Berkut is not on the front lines.

As the sounds of battle rage outside, Rinea and the castle servants huddle in the relative safety within. Fear clouds Rinea's mind, her chest, her stomach. Rudolf is unbeatable, isn't he? Rigel won't fall to Zofia…

...but Rinea had thought Berkut unbeatable, too.

Berkut is there too, but locked in his chambers, not even letting Rinea inside, even as she tries to reason with him through the door. Eventually, she gives up, and joins the castle cook in the kitchens, trying futilely not to think about danger barging through their door.

And eventually, Rudolf falls, and the gates of the castle open before Alm of the Deliverance, but it is no conqueror who walks through them. No, it is Rigel's rightful prince and heir.

Rinea would be lying if she said she found it easy to believe. But Captain Massena, Rudolf's right hand and guard captain, addresses the gathered armies and staff, and presents the king's royal seal as proof of his word. Alm himself looks shell-shocked, standing off to the side as Massena explains the fantastical tale, that Rudolf had sent Alm to safety in Zofia upon his birth…

Berkut comes when they are all summoned, but slips away as Massena tells his story, vanishing from the room before Rinea can catch up with him.

Massena asks Alm to say a few words, and Alm mumbles something about trying to establish peace in Rigel and wanting all of their aid to do so before excusing himself and vanishing from the throne room. He looks like the weight of the world is on his shoulders, and although he might be Berkut's hated enemy, Rinea can only pity him.

The Deliverance spreads through the castle among the men they were fighting only hours before, everyone seeming awkward and confused. The halls are still and odd, whispers and bewilderment hanging heavy in the air, and people duck their head and hurry away when Rinea draws past them. It is odd, she supposes. Until moments ago, she was the future empress. But as the king's son, Alm's claim to the throne comes before Berkut's, even if Berkut is slightly older.

In light of all this, Berkut must be hurting, and lost. Rinea needs to find him, she needs to help, she needs to do her duty as his betrothed and make things better. She asks friend and (former) foe alike, but Berkut's bedroom is empty and his horse still in its stable, and the man himself is nowhere to be found.

Still, Rinea is persistent, and she eventually locates Berkut in the dusty basement of Rigel Castle, seated on the floor and hunched over in front of the massive doors leading to the underground chambers.

Berkut's mumbling to himself as Rinea draws close. He sounds half-crazed. "It's not possible...Alm is the emperor's true son? Which makes him the rightful successor to the imperial throne. All this time...all this effort! What has it all been for?! ...No. It isn't true. It can't be. I refuse to believe it. Nothing but lies... _lies, lies, lies, LIES!"_

His voice rises to a shout, and Rinea jumps, staggering backwards and knocking over a vase in the corner. Berkut starts and turns at the sound. His eyes are bloodshot.

"L-Lord Berkut." Rinea straightens, trying to look more calm than she does.

"Rinea…" Berkut wobbles, blinking hard. He staggers to his feet.

Rinea wonders when he last slept. "I've been looking all over for you. Are you all right?"

"All right? How can I be all right, Rinea?" Berkut growls. "I had the throne snatched from under me by some magical heir!"

"I didn't mean...forgive me. I shouldn't have said anything."

Berkut turns away again, resuming his restless pacing.

"Please don't despair so," says Rinea encouragingly, taking a step forward. "Alm seems a kind and generous man. I'm certain he'll treat you fair…"

"And I'm to be content with that?!" Berkut halts and storms towards Rinea. She gasps, shrinking back against the wall. Why is she so afraid? It's only Berkut. It's only Berkut…

"I wanted to BEAT him, Rinea!" Berkut barks, spit flying from his mouth. "To dispatch him and claim the throne! I wanted to make you my empress and hold all Valentia in our palms together! But what of those dreams now…? Even Rigel alone is now forever beyond my grasp. So I'm to live in this Alm's shadow? Throw myself upon his mercy? I would sooner an honorable death at the executioner's blade!"

"Berkut! You mustn't say such things!" Rinea reaches for Berkut's arm, but he drags it back out of her grasp. "Please, calm down!"

"Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down? Let go of me, woman! Leave me be! You can't possibly understand - "

"This can't go on, Berkut," says Rinea. "Please. I didn't come here to fight with you."

"Then leave me alone," Berkut growls.

"I can't do that. I need you to calm down now." Rinea wants to turn, scamper away like a rabbit, but she can't, she can't, she can't, her feet are rooted to the ground. It's like there are two Rineas - the shrinking violet, trying desperately to flee, and another Rinea, the one who knows that no matter how far she runs, she'll never be safe. Not really.

That reality crashes into Rinea, and she freezes. That hateful look in Berkut's eyes...she's seen no other expression cross his face for months. No dance, no gift, no words of love, no feeble platitude can hide it. She's seen who Berkut truly is. And she can't bear to be around him. She can hardly look at him.

No, she'll never be safe. Not unless she puts an end to things now.

For the first time in eighteen years, Rinea rebels.

Rinea takes a deep breath. "Berkut, listen to me."

Berkut only glares at her.

"I never wanted to be empress. To stand at your side was all I ever desired. I didn't care if you were the emperor or a swineherd...but…" Rinea swallows. "Right now, I don't even recognize you."

Berkut sways on the spot. "What are you…"

"I can't marry you, Berkut." Rinea reaches for her engagement ring and slides it off her finger. "I cannot marry a man like you. I am sorry. Please forget me. I'll go, and - " She cuts herself off, placing the ring in Berkut's unresisting hand. "I'll just go. Take care of yourself. Goodbye."

Rinea turns away, trying to hide her tears, but an arm grabs hers, hard enough that she gasps in pain. Startled, she looks up into Berkut's face.

"Berkut! You're hurting me - "

"So you're abandoning me too?" Berkut's voice is almost hysterical. "Were you laughing along with them? Rudolf, Massena, and all the rest? Watching me toil away while you knew I would never become emperor! Was every kind word part of the act? Every smile an act of PITY!?" Berkut shakes Rinea by the arm. "Answer me!"

"Let go! Let go of me!" Rinea's own voice is rising, panic closing in. Berkut's grip is like iron, his gauntlets digging into her sleeve, leaving pain in their wake. He's dragging her towards him, her slippers sliding on the stone cellar floor. "Berkut, let me go!"

"I said, answer me!"

"Let go!" Rinea's vision blurs in her panic as she struggles - pointlessly, he is strong, so much stronger than her, and she is so, so afraid -

"ANSWER ME - "

Desperate, terrified, cornered, Rinea swings back her free hand and slaps Berkut across the face. The crack resounds through the air, reverberating off the stones, endless and horrifying. For a moment, the world is entirely still. Berkut stares at Rinea, cheek reddened, eyes wide as though he's never seen her before.

Then Berkut's grip slackens, and Rinea wrenches her arm free, turns on her heel, and flees, runs from the room and up the stairs and runs until she can't anymore and sinks to her knees and sobs.

\---

"...a dreadful shock." Indistinct, fuzzy voices. "But I don't think she's hurt."

"That's good…"

Rinea wrenches her eyes open and blinks a few times. She's lying on a sofa, one she recognizes as standing in one of the sitting rooms. There's a white-robed figure bent over her.

"Are you awake now?" The figure is a woman with soft, warm eyes and short blue hair. "We found you collapsed in the hall."

Rinea swallows.

"What happened?" A gentle hand strokes back her hair. "You've been crying."

"I…"

"She's awake," the cleric calls over her shoulder.

The unexpected face of Alm appears next to the cleric. "That's good. Thanks, Silque."

"Prince Alm?" Rinea manages. Her head hurts.

"I...suppose." Alm grimaces slightly. "And you are?"

"My name is...Rinea."

"Can you sit up?"

"Maybe…"

"Here." The cleric puts an arm around Rinea's shoulders and carefully eases her into a sitting position. "There you are. Would you care for some tea?"

Rinea's throat feels raw. "Yes, please."

"I'll send for some," says a third voice, coming from somewhere behind the sofa. Footsteps walk away.

"Now…" Alm is sitting in an armchair facing Rinea. He sighs and leans back. "I'm sorry, but who are you? You don't appear to be a servant..."

"I'm…" Rinea hesitates. "I...I was…" Tears begin to well up in her eyes.

"Oh, dear." The cleric produces a handkerchief and hands it to Rinea. "It's all right. You can tell us."

"Yes," says Alm. "I can understand your reluctance, but I've no intention of punishing anyone here."

"It's not that, it's just…" Rinea swallows. "I...I was engaged to Lord Berkut."

Alm's eyes widen.

"...Was?" Silque asks quietly.

"Not...not anymore." Rinea hiccups, trying to stop crying. "I just...I just...I'm...sorry."

"No, no, you've nothing to apologize for," says Silque, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Alm looks rather panicked.

"Tea's here!" comes the cheerful voice from earlier, and a girl with long sandy braids and a round, freckled face comes in, carrying a tray. She's wearing an apron over her armor. "I asked nicely and a maid gave me some."

"Thanks, Faye," says Alm. "Here, Lady Rinea…" He passes a warm cup into Rinea's hands.

Rinea sips the tea, trying to calm herself down. She's sobbing her eyes out in front of the new Emperor of Rigel, which is really quite typical of her, but still terribly embarrassing.

"Let's slow down, shall we?" says the cleric smoothly. "My name is Silque, and I'm a cleric in the service of Mother Mila, allied with the Deliverance. This is my friend Faye - " she gestures to the sandy-haired girl, who waves, "and she's also in the Deliverance. She found you collapsed in the hall, and fetched us."

"It's nice to meet you all," says Rinea, her voice stuffy. "And thank you for your kindness. I apologize for my composure."

"Don't worry about it," says Alm. "If you're feeling a little better, may I ask you a few things about Rigel Castle? I'm looking for something."

"I don't know much," Rinea admits. "But I've lived here for several months, so I can try to help." Helping is something she can do. And these people seem kind.

"Well, first off...you don't happen to know where the War Falchion is kept?" Alm asks.

"The sword? No, I apologize. I've heard of it being in the Emperor's possession, but I've no idea."

"That's fine. It was worth a try." Alm sighs. "Secondly, I'm going to go into the tunnels below the castle. If there's anything you know about them, I'd appreciate it."

Rinea thinks. "There's a shrine to Duma, perhaps a half hour's walk down the passages. There's also the castle treasure chamber, much further along. Berk - someone brought me there once."

Alm nods. "Nothing else?"

"I understand the tunnels continue for miles, but I'm afraid I don't know to where. I can at least help you find the shrine and the treasure chamber, if that's of any help."

"The Falchion was once sealed within the treasure chamber," Alm mumbles, almost to himself. "Yes, that would be very helpful. However, we've already had a scout check, and it seems the tunnels are crawling with Terrors. It will be dangerous."

Rinea bites her lip.

"I have one more question, and I apologize if this is painful for you, but…" Alm leans forward. "Do you know where Prince Berkut is?"

Rinea's eyes sting again. "I...he was in the basement, last I saw him…"

Alm's eyes widen. "Faye! Have Clive's men ask the guards if they've seen anyone leave the basement in the last few hours. Hurry, please!"

Faye nods and darts from the room.

"What is it?" Rinea asks, fear rising in her chest.

"Berkut's missing," says Alm heavily. "Nobody's seen him since Massena addressed the castle...except for you, and you saw him in the basement a little while ago. But I was just in the basement myself, scoping the place out...and nobody was there. If he never went back in the castle…"

"Then he's down in the tunnels?"

"The Terror-infested tunnels," says Alm heavily. "Alone."

"Oh, no…" Rinea whispers. Silque squeezes her hand.

"Berkut is my cousin. He's the only living family I have left, the only relative of my father's. I wished - _wish_ dearly to speak with him." Alm lowers his eyes. "But he's likely in terrible danger. And...I fear he may be trying to undo what I am attempting to accomplish."

"And what is that, Prince Alm?"

"Just Alm, please."

"Alm, then. What are you going to do in the tunnels, if you plan to go there anyway? Besides rescuing Berkut…"

Alm lifts his eyes. "I can't be sure, exactly. But my father left me a mission when he died. I'm going...I'm going to seal away Duma. And it seems I'll be able to find him, and the Falchion I need in order to slay him, if I follow those passages."

"...What?"

"Yes, I know it sounds insane, but…" Alm rubs the back of his left hand, seemingly unconsciously. "But I know it's what I must do. What I was born to do. The gods have gone mad, and Valentia is crumbling in their hands. My father sealed Mila. Now it's my turn to seal away the other mad god, so both of them, and Valentia, can be at peace. And it's not just me. My friend...she's coming too. I know she is. She'll find the Earth Falchion, and together, we'll beat Duma. We have to. Otherwise...both Rigel and Zofia will fall."

Rinea pauses, and the door opens again.

"Alm!" A young, blonde woman in blue pegasus knight armor rushes into the room. "Faye, Clive and I have spoken with the guards - only one person has left the Rigel Castle basement in the hours since the invasion, and it was a woman."

"That must have been Lady Rinea," says Alm heavily. "I suspected as much. Then Berkut is in the passages…"

"My brother is gathering the army in the basement," says the woman. "He asks that you come when you are able."

"All right." Alm gets to his feet. "I must go help them finish preparations. Tomorrow morning...we will begin our journey. Massena has agreed to watch over Rigel in my absence. Lady Rinea, remain safe here. I will attempt to save Lord Berkut, as well."

"Wait…" The words fall from Rinea's mouth almost without thought. "Let me come with you."

Everyone in the room stares at her. Rinea swallows, feeling foolish. "Please."

"Lady Rinea…" says Alm slowly. "It will be dangerous."

"I know that," says Rinea. "But I can help you. I know my way along the tunnels - they are designed to repel intruders, and are laden with traps. I can guide you through. It's true I cannot fight, but I know a fair amount of white magic. Please, Sir Alm. I wish to help. I want to help Rigel, and Zofia too. I am tired of cowering, and hiding, and...avoiding conflict."

Alm pauses, head tilted in thought.

"We could certainly use another healer," says Silque. "We'd keep her on the sidelines, but she could still help out…"

"If you're certain," says Alm at last. "But it won't be an easy journey."

"I know that," says Rinea. "But…" _But I want answers. Any answers at all. And I want guidance. And more than anything, I want to belong._

"Very well. Please gather what you need. Tomorrow morning, meet us in the basement." Alm smiles at her. "And I really do appreciate it. Thank you for trusting me."

"No, thank you, Sir Alm." Rinea gets to her feet. "I'll go get my things. I'll see you tomorrow. Thank you, again."

As she walks the halls of Rigel Castle, Rinea wonders what has come over her. She can't stomach battle. She's never fought in her life. What is she doing?

The mantras she's always lived her life by echo through her head. _Keep the peace, Rinea. Keep your head down and your mouth shut. Behave yourself, and be a good girl and a respectable young lady, and never, ever talk out of turn._

But she wants to help. She wants to change. She wants to _do_ something, for once in her life. Besides, her entire world has upended itself around her ears in less than a day. What more could go wrong?

\---

The next morning, Rinea collects her staff and a few meager things from her room in a bag before returning to the basement. It's lively and busy, people bustling around and loading supplies onto horses and pegasi. Rinea's never seen so many people down here at once.

And it's nothing like the Rigel army, Rinea thinks to herself as she walks through the crowds in search of Alm. There's all sorts of colors and patterns, no two people alike, and many not wearing traditional armor at all. Some of the soldiers are little more than children, or actually children - Rinea sees a girl that she swears is no older than thirteen practicing magic spells against the wall.

Alm is standing directly in front of the Grand Portal doors, speaking with a few gathered knights, when Rinea approaches. "Sir Alm. I'm ready."

"Ah, Lady Rinea!" Alm turns to face her. "Just in time. We'll be departing within the hour. Sir Clive, Dame Mathilda, this is Lady Rinea. She resides in the palace, and has agreed to help be our guide."

Mathilda nods with a smile, but Clive's brow wrinkles. "She resides in the palace?"

"I was...formerly betrothed to Prince Berkut," says Rinea. It's getting easier to say.

"...Alm, are you certain we can trust her?" Clive looks nervously at Rinea. "If she was engaged to General Berkut, of all people…"

"I don't think she's a threat," says Alm mildly. "Besides, if having her along helps us reason with Lord Berkut...I want to show him mercy, if I can. He's my cousin. I don't want to lose anyone else."

"...If you think it best," says Clive. "I defer to your leadership."

"Welcome aboard, Lady Rinea," says Mathilda.

"And this is my grandfather - er, by adoption - Sir Mycen." Alm gestures to a old, stern-faced man. "He's the one who...told me all this."

Mycen inclines his head to Rinea. "I know some of the layout down here, but it's been many years. Having fresh eyes will be a great help."

"During battles, you'll be staying on the sidelines with Silque," says Alm. "She's over that way - you might want to speak with her. While we're navigating, though, I'd like you up front with me and Clive."

Rinea nods. "However you wish me to assist, I shall strive to."

Alm nods to her before turning back to Clive, and Rinea heads off in the direction Alm indicated. There, Silque is rolling bandages and stowing them neatly in a pack, while Faye is stacking crates into a cart.

"Ah, Lady Rinea!" Silque nods to her. "Thank you for coming to help. I'm happy to have the extra hands around here."

"Thank you," says Rinea. "But please, just Rinea is fine."

"Rinea, then." Silque indicates a woman standing nearby, also gathering medical supplies. "This is Tatiana - she's more skilled than me with long-range spells, so she's our battlefield medic. And you've met Faye - " Faye waves, " - while she's not a cleric, she knows a handful of spells, so she helps us out occasionally."

"I'm a jack of all trades!" says Faye cheerfully. Indeed, she has a bow and staff across her back and a sword hanging at her side. "But it'll be really nice to have you around, Rinea."

Rinea nods. Her stomach is starting to feel sick with the reality of what she's gotten herself into.

"It's lovely to meet you," says Tatiana, walking over with a box of mana herbs tucked under her arm.

"And you," Rinea says, willing her breakfast to remain in her stomach.

"...Lady Rinea? Is that you?"

Rinea starts and turns at the sound of the approaching voice, and sees a tall, intimidating-looking blonde man in Rigelian attire walking over to them.

"You know her, Zeke?" Tatiana asks.

"Not personally, but I'd seen her at the palace," says the man, coming to a stop next to Tatiana. "I can't say I expected to see her here."

"Ah…" Rinea swallows. The man does look familiar… "I'm sorry, I can't recall your name."

"Ezekiel," says the man, bowing his head.

Rinea curtsies (wobbling rather badly, and hoping nobody notices.) "Yes...you were one of Rigel's generals, weren't you?"

"'Were' being the key word, I suppose. I've defected. Though...considering circumstances...I suppose I may well be considered one once again." Ezekiel sighs. "Regardless...I'm glad to see you're safe, Lady Rinea."

"Likewise." Rinea manages a weak smile.

"I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here, though," says Ezekiel. "Preparing to join a battle, I mean. I thought...well…to put it bluntly, I never thought you would wish to participate in such things."

"General?"

"As one of the late Emperor's men, I was often selected when Lord Berkut wished to spar." Ezekiel's eyes are shrewd, and Rinea steadfastly avoids looking directly into them. "You were often there, watching. I say watching, but...on occasion, I noticed you during those sparring sessions. Your eyes were always closed."

Rinea swallows, fresh fear bubbling in her chest. "Don't - don't tell Berkut. Please, don't..."

Ezekiel's frown deepens, and he and Tatiana exchange a glance. "I - I can assure you I had no intention of doing so."

"Thank you." Rinea clasps a hand to her chest, trying to steady her breathing. "I...he can't find out…"

"Are you all right?" Tatiana asks, placing a hand on Rinea's forehead. "You feel clammy…"

"A bit nervous," Rinea mumbles. "Like...like General Ezekiel said, I've always avoided fighting…"

"Well, there's no need to do any fighting." Tatiana pats her hand. "Honestly, none of us healers go out into the battlefield proper unless we have to, and you won't have to. You'll be perfectly safe."

Rinea swallows. It's not really her safety she's worried about - but she doesn't know how to put her worries into words.

\---

Alm says once they've made it to their destination, they'll meet up with his friend and her army. Their purpose is to make it there alive, ideally finding the War Falchion and saving Berkut along the way. And if anyone needs to turn back, they will. Slow and steady will win the day, Alm says, and they'll strive to be cautious.

Still, it's a terrible shock when the massive doors of what Sir Mycen calls the Great Portal swing shut, and the only light comes from the army's torches and lanterns.

They've barely started the journey when they find the destroyed form of Berkut's right-hand man, Fernand. He dies in Clive's arms, but not before sharing words that make Rinea's stomach clench -

_You must beware of Berkut. He's no longer…_

Rinea doesn't know what that could possibly mean, but she is afraid to hear the end of that sentence.

There are Terrors, plenty of them, and up until this point Rinea's only heard the stories. The stories aren't as dreadful as the things themselves though - horrible, half-decayed monsters, sickening and awful. There's witches, too, their blank eyes empty and their pained screams echoing through Rinea's heart. Rinea stays back with the healers, patching up the army as they make their way through the awful monsters, and the carnage is terrible. Even if the undead cannot be considered human, watching them fall apart is a dreadful, stomach-turning sight. After their first battle is complete, Rinea flees the scene and is promptly sick in a brazier while Silque strokes her back.

It gets a little easier with time. Battle, find a safe place, rest, battle, press on. With so many enemies, what should be a half-hour's journey quickly becomes over an hour, then two, then more. But eventually...they find the altar.

They find Berkut.

\---

Berkut's body is illuminated by the flame. His back is turned to them, his neck twisted at an awkward angle.

All Rinea can feel is terror.

"Lady Rinea," says Alm lowly. "You should get back…"

"Perhaps I can reason with him," says Rinea, trying to stop herself from shaking. "Perhaps…"

Berkut has heard them, and he's laughing, a dull, unhinged cackle that fills the hall and makes Rinea's blood turn to ice. As he turns to face them, his smile reminds Rinea of a wolf baring its teeth, and his wide, bloodshot eyes make her think that the wolf is rabid. "You kept me waiting, Alm! Or should I say…Your Excellency? Perhaps Emperor Rudolf II of Rigel?"

"I don't want to fight," says Alm, lifting his hands to shoulder height. "Berkut, listen to - "

"Tell me," says Berkut, idly twirling a lock of his own hair, "how does it feel to possess both Zofia and Rigel? I imagine it's wonderful, though it's a sensation I'll never know."

"This isn't a conquest for me," Alm snaps. "I have no illusions the people of Rigel will suddenly welcome me as their ruler. But my father placed this land in my care, and I'll do anything for it. Whatever it takes to keep Valentia's people safe."

Berkut's mocking expression has faded. His eyes narrow.

Alm continues, voice cracking with hope. "The path ahead is a difficult one for us all. So help us, Berkut. Lend us your strength! Rigel's people trust and love you far more than me. You and I are cousins, after all. Family. I didn't think any of my father's family remained in this world, but there's still you. I know we can be close friends as well. Let's work together, Berkut. Put all we have toward ensuring all Valentia is - "

"Silence," says Berkut, his voice low and threatening, and Rinea feels like she's about to be sick again.

"Um…" Alm blinks. "What?"

"Listen to you, offering mercy and trite platitudes from on high." Berkut's voice rises louder and louder as he speaks, hoarse and broken. "Work together? Us? Don't make me laugh. Strength isn't lent, it's taken! Pried from the grip of your dead foes!" A deep, red flame has begun to illuminate Berkut's form, blazing on his flesh, in his eyes. A harsh breath comes from him, like an animal's.

Alm staggers backwards. "What the…"

"Berkut!" Through the terror, Rinea finds her footing. "Please, stop this! Listen to me!"

At the sound of her voice, Berkut freezes, the fire still crackling around his armor.

Encouraged, Rinea steps forward. "This doesn't have to happen, Berkut. You don't have to fight!"

"You...you're standing...next to Alm…" Berkut mumbles, eyes wide and fixed on her. "My Rinea...next to Alm...he took...he took even you from me…"

"I'm trying to help you! I want to help you!" Rinea holds out her hands, pleading. "Just, please, don't fight anymore! I'm begging you! I...I want you to be safe! I don't want anyone to get hurt! Stand down, and it will all be okay!"

For a moment, Berkut wavers, eyes flickering, and hope blooms in Rinea's chest...but then the fire springs to life again.

"...You aren't her," Berkut hisses under his breath. "Not her...not my Rinea. My Rinea would never BETRAY ME!"

His sudden scream pierces through them all, and Rinea claps her hands over her ears, cowering at the force of it.

A horse, or something shaped like a horse, something Rinea is afraid to look too closely at, appears beside Berkut. As he mounts it, a monstrous lance, sickly and laced with purple, pulsing as if alive, forms in his hand. A terrible grin has begun to spread across Berkut's face, his neck still held at that odd angle as he laughs, lifting his flame-laced arms in the air as if welcoming someone home.

"Alm!" Clive calls, rushing forward. "Berkut has taken in Duma's power. He's no longer the man we knew!"

"No!" Alm's voice cracks. "Please, no…"

"Berkut…" Rinea whispers.

Behind Berkut, the flames grow still higher and brighter. From them, a humanoid form emerges...a witch, but different, a figure created of flame, wreathed in flickering light, who drifts down to where Berkut stands and leans against his shoulders. It takes Rinea only a moment to realize…

"Ah, here she is," says Berkut, reaching up to rest a hand on the fire-draped woman's arm. "My beloved Rinea...beautiful, isn't she?"

"Oh, gods…" Alm breathes beside her. The not-Rinea curls around Berkut, leaning its head against his. Rinea feels a strong urge to be sick again.

"That isn't me," Rinea manages. "It's not...I…"

"You made that thing? To replace her?" Alm's face is curled with disgust. "How could you?! How could you treat her the way you did? What's the point of power if you have nothing left to protect?!"

"Power won't betray me," Berkut hisses. "Power won't deceive me. Blood ties? Years of life lived together? All meaningless. The only thing in the world a man can rely on is his own strength!"

"Years of…" Alm's face twists. "Are you accusing my father of betraying you? You're wrong! He loved you! He worried about you to the last! You knew him so much better than I did. How can you not see that?"

"SILENCE!" Berkut roars. "I'm tired of listening to your pretty little lies." He reaches up and strokes the hair of the firey apparition, and Rinea looks into its face more clearly, and realizes - even as it gazes down at Berkut, leaning against him, its body language suggesting nothing but ardor - not-Rinea's face is twisted in pain, lava-hot tears streaming down its flickering cheeks.

The sight stings at the real Rinea's heart.

"It's time, Rinea," Berkut cooes to his twisted creation. "Come with me. We'll hold our wedding atop his funeral!"

"Berkut!" Rinea begs. "Berkut, that's not me! Please - please, listen!"

Berkut appears not to hear her. Terrors begin to melt out of the flames, from the shadows lining the walls, creeping down out of the ceiling...and Berkut, Rinea realizes, as she watches him heave his dreadful lance across his shoulders, is the worst terror of all.

"Get back, Lady Rinea!" Alm steps in front of her. "I don't think he can be reasoned with! Everyone, prepare for battle!"

"Berkut!" Rinea calls, shoving past Alm and rushing across the battlefield. "Wait, please!"

"Rinea!" Faye yells. "Stop!"

"Don't hurt them! Don't keep making people suffer! I - I - I'll marry you! I'll be your empress!" Rinea's voice rises in pitch, tears streaming down her face, hysterics overtaking her. "I'll do whatever you want, just, please, I beg of you, stop this!"

Berkut looks down his nose at her. And then he hurls his lance. Someone screams.

Rinea doesn't even have a chance to feel fear as the sickly weapon hurtles towards her face - but there's a loud clang and a clatter of hooves, and a figure rides in front of her, catching the lance against its shield with a grunt.

"Stay behind me, Lady Rinea!" Dame Mathilda shouts. "Clair - get her out of here!"

The lance reappears in Berkut's hand as his laughter fills the room, clawing at Rinea's insides. Rinea staggers backwards, guided by Clair's gentle arms. "I wanted to...I hoped I could reach him…"

"Of course, dear," says Clair, in a tone one would use with a very small, injured child. "Up you get, now."

 _Why would you be able to reach him now?_ asks a voice in Rinea's head as Clair tugs her onto her pegasus and retreats towards the back of the room. _You never could before._

"Ensure she is unhurt," says Clair, touching down where Silque and Faye are standing and lowering Rinea into Faye's waiting arms. "I must go do what I can out there."

"Yes, of course. Good luck. Rinea? Can you hear me?" Silque strokes her hair. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Tears are clouding Rinea's vision. "I…"

Faye sets Rinea down on a folded blanket near the medical supply cart. "Shh. It's okay now."

"It's not okay…" Rinea sniffles. "Why couldn't I stop him?"

"I don't think that's him anymore," says Silque gently. "It's not your fault."

"But...even when it was him...he never listened to me…" Rinea stares at the distant chaos as Alm's army clashes against Berkut and his Terrors. "He never listened…he never..."

Silque squeezes her hand. "Why don't you just sit here and catch your breath? We'll handle the healing, okay?"

"N...no." Rinea staggers to her feet. "No, I...I want to help. I want to at least do this. I don't...I don't want to be a coward anymore."

"Rinea…"

Rinea picks up one of the healing staves and marches towards the battlefield. She can't make out Berkut in the chaos, but she can see the line of the Not-Rinea, flitting across the battlefield and sending flames erupting in its wake, its unearthly shrieks and moans of pain echoing against the room's cavernous ceiling. It doesn't seem able to make any other sounds.

"Rinea!" calls Tatiana, turning from where her staff is held aloft, casting the battlefield in soft white light. "Are you certain you should be out here?"

"Yes." Rinea doesn't know why, but she is. She's never been more certain in her life. "I'm going to help."

"All right. Just don't push yourself." Tatiana fires a spell at a stray Terror.

"Right." Rinea's hand clenches on the staff's cold iron. "I won't fail you."

The battle rages on, long and difficult. The Terrors are dangerous, and the not-Rinea is worst of all - attacking it is a dreadful risk, any who land a blow risking not only its magic but the burn of its unending flames. Rinea herself stays back from the bulk of the fighting, healing from afar, crunching bitter mana herbs between her teeth when fatigue sets in and clenching her jaw as she fires off spell after spell - Lukas's burn heals over, Clair's broken arm rights itself, Mathilda's fallen horse stands again…

She can do this. She can fix things. She can help, she can...

"You…" Berkut hisses as his lance clashes against Alm's sword. "You took…everything from me. You will SUFFER for what you've done!"

"You took everything from yourself!" Alm barks back, then grits his teeth under the force of Berkut's onslaught. His left leg is held at an awkward angle. Rinea focuses and launches a healing spell in his direction, and with it Alm is able to stand straighter, gaining the upper hand as he forces Berkut backwards.

Berkut growls in anger, and the not-Rinea witch appears beside him. It's been injured - there are deep gashes cut in the flame making up its body, and it's smoking oddly, its gentle glide turned to something hobbling and awkward. It looks...pitiful, Rinea thinks, a wounded, desperate creature.

And then the not-Rinea looks up from Berkut, over the battlefield, and its tormented, tear-filled eyes settle on Rinea. For a moment, it only stares, and then it lurches forward.

"Rinea!" Tatiana shouts, a moment too late as the fire creature hurtles towards her, and Rinea thinks, this is it, this is how she'll die.

The thing, though...even as it screams from its never-ceasing pain, its eyes are staring into hers. There's something strange on its face, through all the suffering...a sort of...longing. It holds out its hands, like a child seeking comfort from its mother.

Unthinking, Rinea's staff slips from her fingers, and she opens her arms.

The creature makes contact with her, but it feels as gentle as a caress. Rinea holds it gently, and she can see the flames licking her body but they're warm, not hot, and the witch's arms wrap around Rinea's neck…

And then it's gone, only a puff of smoke where it used to be, and then even that dissipates into nothingness.

"Rinea!" Tatiana is running over to her, panting, staff in hand. "Are you all right?"

"Fine," Rinea stammers, head whirling. "It...it was…"

"You're not even burned," says Tatiana, turning Rinea's hands over in her own. "My goodness…"

And then there's a horrible scream, and Rinea turns just in time to see Alm plunge his sword through Berkut's chest.

\---

When Berkut falls, the Terrors dissipate, including Berkut's horse. Berkut falls through empty air, landing in Alm's arms. The smaller man cradles his cousin, lowering him to the floor as the Deliverance approaches them, all their foes gone. Rinea walks forward, almost automatically, towards the place where the man she loves (loved? She doesn't know anymore) is bleeding out on the ground.

"Why, Berkut?" Alm chokes out, cradling Berkut's head in his lap. "To have finally found new family after all this time…Why did it come to this?!"

"Heh…" Berkut coughs, blood leaking from his mouth. "I have no family…nor do I want for one. Now stop talking and finish this. End me, and you can stand alone as inheritor of Rigel's royal blood."

"I never wanted that!" Alm pounds his fists into Berkut's heaving chest. "Don't you get it? I've spent enough of my life alone!"

Berkut doesn't seem to be listening. He's gazing up at the ceiling. "…Rinea? Rinea, is that really you?"

"...Berkut?" Rinea asks. But no, he isn't looking at her, only staring up at nothing, his eyes glazed.

"Rinea…" Berkut whispers to his nonexistent conversation partner. "You're right…you were always right...we'll find a new empire...together...and we'll rule..."

Rinea feels like she's going to be sick again. Silque, apparently recognizing the green tint in her face, hastily tips out the contents of her carrying bucket and shoves it under Rinea's chin.

"Berkut!" Alm shouts. "She's not there! What's wrong with you?"

"Is that you, Alm…? Here…take this...Rinea has...no use for it...anymore…" Berkut holds up what Rinea recognizes as her engagement ring.

Alm takes it in a shaking hand. "Berkut, no! Please…I don't want to be alone! Help me rebuild Rigel! Tell me about my father!"

"Rinea…" Berkut mumbles. And then, just like that, he is gone, and Rinea feels nothing at all.

Alm sobs, but Rinea just stands still, and stares, and stares.

\---

They make camp there, in front of that wicked altar, because the army is too exhausted to press forward any further. Alm has retreated to his tent, and the air is heavy and somber.

Silque sighs as she finishes tidying up the medical supplies, all injuries treated. "That's all done. We should get some rest."

Tatiana is seated on the ground, leaning against a pillar. "Thank the Mother."

Faye, hair more out of her braids than in, plops to the ground with a huff. "That was not fun."

"Agreed," says Silque. "Rinea? How are you doing?"

Rinea hugs her knees to her chest, seated in the shadow of a pile of crates, looking at her bare hand. Alm had offered her Berkut's mother's ring. She'd told him to keep it.

She can still feel the heat of the witch's arms around her neck.

"We'll leave you alone, if you want," says Silque gently. "But if you want to talk...we're here."

Rinea swallows through a dry throat. "I...I don't know what to say."

"Nothing, if you don't want to," says Tatiana. "You've been through a lot. We understand."

"No, I think I do want to talk, I'm just…" Rinea trails off again. "Thinking."

"Take your time," says Silque, now carefully unbraiding the straggled remains of Faye's pigtails. "We're in no rush."

"I...I feel like an idiot," says Rinea finally. "I don't...I really thought he loved me. But he just...he replaced me. He made a new me, and at the end...he acted like I was there greeting him. And that wasn't me either, it was just - his fantasy of me, saying what he wanted me to say. He didn't even notice that I was there - the real me, I mean. He said I was always right - but he never listened to anything I said to start with. What I really told him...he didn't care about a word of it. He only cared about hearing what he wanted to hear."

Faye grimaces. "Yeah."

"I don't know what to think," Rinea mumbles. "I've always...I always tried to be...whatever he wanted, or whatever my parents wanted. And the two...often aligned. They both wanted someone...passive. Somebody who would say yes to whatever they wanted. And for years...that was who I was. Maybe it's who I still am. When I ran out there and said I'd marry him if he stopped hurting people...I meant it. I just...I just want to keep the peace...not cause trouble...not make people hate me…" Rinea scrubs a hand over her eyes. Her head seems to have a permanent throb from all the constant, constant crying.

"Oh, Rinea," says Silque.

"I'm...I'm just a coward, I guess," Rinea mumbles. "What ideals do I even have? I never uphold them, I never fight back, I...I never have the courage to. I just try to be...who everyone wants me to be."

"That's no way to live," says Faye, and her voice sounds so uncharacteristically grave that Rinea's head snaps up. "Believe me, I know."

"Faye?"

Faye's brown eyes look dull as she stares at the ground, her now-loose hair falling into her face in waves as Silque combs it. "I am...or was, I don't know...in love with someone. Someone who would never love me back. I tried...I tried to be everything he could possibly want, just...just so he'd love me." Silque strokes Faye's hair, and with that touch Faye seems to shake herself a little and straighten up. "But that was impossible. He was never going to love me. He just wasn't. And trying to make myself into something I wasn't...that wasn't good for either of us. Eventually, with the help of some friends...I realized that. But it hurt a lot. And I...I'm still working on letting him go." She swallows. "My situation is kind of different from yours. The man I...well, he's a good person, truly. And we were never together, he never led me on or anything like that - I don't think he even knew. But the point is...you can't just be who somebody wants you to be. You have to be...who you want to be. I'm still figuring out who that is." Faye picks at her cuticles. "But I want to find out."

Rinea watches her.

"After the war...I want to discover...who I really am." Faye sighs, stretching. "Rinea, you said you were trying to be who everyone wants you to be. But do you know who you'd like to be?"

"I don't…"

"Oh, you might not know the answer yet." Faye waves a hand. "I don't either. But I'm trying to figure it out. Maybe...maybe if you do too, you'll be able to...find peace. I guess it sounds a little silly out loud."

"No, it doesn't." Silque has finished rebraiding Faye's hair into one long plait, fastening it with a ribbon and leaning back to admire her work. "My invitation extends to you too, Rinea."

"Invitation?"

"After the war is over, I intend to travel Valentia as a healer and aid, both spiritual and physical, to her people." Silque folds her hands in her lap. "Faye has already agreed to accompany me, as part of her, ah, journey. If you wish to join us...you are more than welcome."

"I don't know…" Rinea picks at the hem of her skirt. "There's my family, and I've never left Rigel…" Except as a guest of an invasion force in Zofia Castle, but she decides not to mention that.

"You needn't decide right away," says Silque. "Just give it some thought, please."

"Okay. Thank you for the invitation." Rinea looks down at the floor. "Honestly, I hadn't thought about it much, but...my parents are going to be furious. I had the chance to become Empress of Rigel, and it slipped through my fingers. And Berkut's...not around anymore...I might not have a home to go back to. More than that, I...I don't want to go home. I don't want to live the way I was living before."

"If you don't want to travel, you're always welcome to come back to my village with me," says Tatiana. "In southern Rigel - it's a lovely, peaceful place. We're always looking for new clerics at the priory, and I've seen your skill with a staff. But there's no need to make any decisions now. It's all up to you, and for now, we should get some rest."

"Thank you, too," says Rinea. Exhaustion is overwhelming her, and the crates feel surprisingly comfortable.

There's a rustling, and Rinea is half-aware of gentle arms taking her shoulders, and before she is lowered onto a bedroll, she is asleep.

(She dreams of nothing at all.)

\---

The Deliverance presses forward, through the twisting tunnels, through dozens of Terrors and seemingly endless darkness. With Rinea's guidance, they eventually reach the Rigelian treasure chamber. By the chamber's ancient laws, Alm enters alone, and emerges bedraggled but carrying a gleaming golden sword set with a red gem. The War Falchion, he declares, a fang of the Divine Dragon Naga bequeathed to Duma long ago. He lifts it above his head, and the army cheers.

Hours upon hours go by, possibly days. With no light save that of their torches and lanterns, there's no real way to keep time. Rinea has little time to think and dwell - even though the firey witch made in her image and the twisted face of her former betrothed remain ever in her mind, business and constant anxiety keep them at bay.

For now, at least. When all of this is over, Rinea knows she'll need to face it.

She dreads nothing more. A part of her wants to remain down among the stone walls forever, where there's nothing to worry about but monsters and spells and bandages. Nothing to worry about except a constant, desperate struggle for survival.

They're all the worse for wear by this point, feet dragging and little conversation being made as the Deliverance plods forward. Rinea's hair is a straggled mess, tied hastily back with one of Faye's spare ribbons, and her blouse is torn and face smudged with grime. Her mother would have a fit, Rinea reflects. She finds she doesn't mind that thought as much as she expected she would.

As they round a corner, Alm suddenly freezes. "Do you hear that?"

Behind him, Rinea pauses, and then she can hear it too - there are voices up ahead, echoing down the stony halls, a bit too far off for words to be made out.

"It's not terrors," says Mathilda quietly. "They're talking, after all…"

"What do we do?" Clair asks.

"It could be…" Alm pauses. "We shouldn't charge, but...press forward with caution. Lady Rinea, please keep your distance."

The Deliverance creeps along the cramped corridors, the voices growing in volume as they do, and then they emerge into a large, high-ceilinged chamber with sealed double doors in green and red. There's a group of armed people gathered there - at the sound of the Deliverance's approach, they all turn, drawing their weapons.

"Wait!" a voice calls from the center of the new army. "Don't attack!"

"Is that you? Celica!" Alm calls.

"Alm! It's us!" A woman with red hair and shimmering white armor pushes forward out of the crowd. "Everyone, it's all right - stand down! These are my friends."

"You're all right!" Alm races towards the woman, exhaustion forgotten in his excitement.

"As are you," says Celica, smiling.

"Celica!" Faye appears behind Alm, beaming. "It's so good to see you!"

"Faye! You too - and Gray, and Tobin, and Kliff! I'm so glad you're all okay," says Celica, turning to greet them all in turn. "Oh, and Grandpapa!"

Mycen's face breaks into a rare smile as he returns Celica's embrace. "Well done, Celica. I knew you could do it."

"Oh!" Alm starts and then turns to the rest of the army. "Everyone, this is Celica. She's, er, the princess of Zofia. And an old friend."

"Delighted to make your acquaintance at last, Princess Celica!" says Clair, bowing. "I've heard so much about you!"

"It's lovely to meet you all," says Celica, disentangling herself from Mycen and looking over her shoulder to address her own army. "Everyone, this is my friend...Prince Alm of Rigel."

"So you knew?" Alm asks.

"I recently found out." Celica rests a hand on his shoulder. "For a long time, I'd been having visions, but I never understood them. I'm sorry about all of that…"

"Don't worry about it," says Alm quickly. "Grandfather said you'd be down here, but...er, how exactly did you get here?"

Celica gestures vaguely behind her. "Down through Duma Tower. It was quite a maze, but we managed. And you?"

"The Rigel Castle basement. I, er, had some help from someone living there." Alm rubs the back of his head. "Do you have the Earth Falchion?"

"I do." Celica pats a sword hanging at her hip, the mirror image of Alm's and set with a green jewel. "I assume you collected the War Falchion?"

"Sure did."

"And you've disposed of Jedah, Celica?" Mycen asks. "I wondered why we'd seen neither hide nor hair of him."

"We have," says Celica. "Though it was quite a chase to finally put an end to him."

"It was amazing!" chirps the girl standing next to Celica, pink pigtails bouncing. "He wanted Celica to become a witch, right? He told her to give herself up at Duma Tower. So Celica pretended to go along with his plan, and acted like she was hiding it from us, but we were able to make a super-secret plan of our own - when Jedah turned up at Duma Tower, Celica acted like she was alone, but then she stabbed him and we ambushed! He ran, and left us with his - his witches, but we chased him down here and got rid of him!" Panting slightly, the girl beams. "It was _so_ amazing."

"It...sounds like it was," says Alm, looking a little nonplussed.

"It wasn't as impressive as Mae makes it sound," says Celica sheepishly. "Honestly, I was terrified. But regardless...Jedah is gone. There will be no more victims. He attempted to taunt me with Mila's death, but...I refuse to back down. I believe in my people and my friends. Even without the gods, there must be another way. I am certain there is another way. "

"We'll find a way together," Alm promises.

"I was able to reclaim the Earth Falchion from Jedah's clutches after destroying him, though his men had stolen it from the Temple of Mila," Celica continues. "With both blades, we should be able to put Duma to rest. Mila warned me that he would be a far more formidable foe than she, as she was a god of plenty while he is a god of war."

"Two Falchions will be better than one," says Alm. "I got mine after defeating…" He hesitates. "Some of Duma's minions."

"Duma is behind these doors," says Celica, gesturing. "With the Falchions, we should be able to unseal them, and...do what must be done."

Alm nods. "It's almost over then, isn't it?"

"Yes, but after everything, we're all worn out," says Celica. "We should take some time to rest here before we…"

"Slay a god?"

"I suppose." Celica sighs. "Everyone, we'll make camp. Get some rest. This next battle won't be easy."

The armies disperse, talking among themselves, both reuniting and making introductions. Rinea stands awkwardly to the side, feeling like an intruder, as Alm shows Celica around the army.

"Rinea? There you are," says Alm. "Celica, this is Lady Rinea. We couldn't have made it down here without her."

"Oh - not at all," says Rinea quickly. "It's nice to meet you, Princess Celica."

"And you, Lady Rinea." Celica curtsies. Even with her hair mussed and robes stained with soot, she looks more a princess than Rinea feels she ever could. "You are from Rigel?"

"Yes, I, ah…" Rinea hesitates. "I was…"

"It's all right," says Celica gently. "You needn't tell me if it's hard for you."

"Thank you." Rinea clenches and unclenches her hands in her skirts. "Um, I was wondering...do you happen to have anyone among you who knows about witches?"

Celica blinks. "I suppose...Sonya knows a few things. She's the tall mage with violet hair. But, ah, it's a sensitive topic for her, I'm afraid."

"Thank you."

"May I ask what the matter is?"

"It's…" Rinea swallows.

"We ran into a pretty powerful one earlier," says Alm quickly, covering for her. "It was rough."

"I see," says Celica. "Well, Sonya might be able to help set your mind at ease."

"Thank you, Princess Celica." Rinea curtsies. "I, ah...wish you all the best."

"And you." Celica smiles again before walking away to speak with another group.

Rinea picks her way among the crowd as people unroll their bedrolls and gather around fires. The clank of armor and the smell of oranges fill the air as people set about having a last meal. Eventually, Rinea spies a mage in dark red robes seated on a supply crate away from the rest, pursing her lips at a small silver folding mirror while dabbing at her eyes with a powder puff.

"Excuse me," says Rinea, drawing closer. "Are you Lady Sonya?"

"I don't know about 'Lady,'" says the woman, "but I'm Sonya. And you are?"

"Rinea. I'm from Rigel. May I, er, join you?"

"Be my guest," says the woman. Rinea sits down on a crate facing her.

The woman continues her blotting before clicking the compact shut with a sigh. "I don't think I'll ever be able to cover up these dark circles."

"You look lovely."

"I appreciate the thought, but I'm well aware I'm rather battle-weary at the moment." The woman shakes her head. "You may think me a fool for primping during a war, but for me, it's one thing I can control."

Rinea isn't sure how to answer that, so she just stays quiet.

"Is there something I can help you with, Rinea?"

"I…" Rinea shifts nervously, the supply crate creaking beneath her. "Princess Celica said that you...that you know a few things about witches."

The temperature in the room seems to drop a few degrees, but the woman's expression doesn't change. "I see."

"I...I understand if it's a difficult subject," says Rinea, twisting her skirt between her fingers. "But...but something happened...and I...if you could ease my mind, explain what I saw...I would be truly grateful."

There's quiet for a few moments, the only sounds the bustling of the army around them.

Finally, Sonya sighs. "I don't know how much help I can be. I'm no expert, mind you. I only...picked up a few things here and there. I'm Rigelian too, you see."

"I would appreciate any insight you could give."

"First, tell me what you want to know."

"All right." Rinea takes a deep breath. "My...my ex-fiancé gave himself to Duma."

Sonya's mouth tightens slightly, but her face remains cool and impassive.

"I...I broke off our engagement, and the next time I saw him, he was…" Rinea pauses. "He didn't quite look like a witch, but he was...wreathed in flame, and he had a dreadful lance...he said he had offered his soul to Duma. But...but that wasn't the worst of it. He had...it was made out of fire...it was the shape of a woman. It was the shape of _me."_

Sonya inhales.

"He thought it was me...he spoke to it like it was me. But all it did...was cry and scream. It floated, like a witch, and it seemed to have the powers of one, but it was...so anguished. All the witches we fought were like it, screaming and moaning like they were hurt, but this one seemed even worse, somehow...Alm and the others wounded it heavily, and it was dying. And then it saw me, and flew towards me, and I…" Rinea opens her arms, turning her palms upwards on her lap. "I...embraced it. And then it was gone. And just after that, my...well, he was killed too."

There's a long pause. Rinea can't quite meet Sonya's eyes.

"It does sound like a witch. More specifically, a vestal," says Sonya at last. "Witches come in many forms. Vestals were ancient priestesses, sacrificed to flame. They're quite rare nowadays."

"But it looked like me. And I'm still here. He didn't sacrifice me. What...what was it, then?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Sonya sighs, leaning back on the crate and resting on her hands. "I suspect it was...your ex-fiancé's own soul. A part of it, anyway."

"Why did it look like me?"

"What was it doing?"

"It...was clinging to my...former fiancé. It seemed to love him, and be devoted to him. It fought us like he ordered it to. But it was always crying, and moaning in pain…"

"This is only a theory, mind. As I said, I'm hardly an expert on witches," says Sonya. "But I suspect...that when he gave Duma his soul...most of that soul remained within him, of course, so someone could pilot his body. But a part was taken out, and became that witch-like creature. And that part took the form of one of his deepest desires...you. A twisted form of you, one that lived only for him. And even that twisted form, even though it wasn't really you...it wanted to be free. It did what its master commanded, but it was in agony. It only wanted...release."

Rinea wipes her eyes.

"You pity it? Or him?"

"It, I think…" Rinea sniffles. "Maybe both. I don't know."

"You're a kind soul." Sonya reaches into the pocket of her robe and withdraws a small handkerchief. "Here."

"Thank you." Rinea wipes her eyes. "When it was dying, the thing went to me…"

"Yes, seeking the freedom you had. It was drawn to you. I think it knew you were what it was supposed to be...what it _wanted_ to be."

"...Who would want to be me?"

"That's a bit of a loaded question for someone you've only just met," says Sonya. "And it's not one I can answer. I don't know you at all. But just based on what you've been asking me...I don't think you're a bad person. I'll just leave it at that, shall I?"

Rinea tries not to cry any harder than she already is.

"It sounds like your ex was attracted to power...and also to meekness," Sonya muses. "He wanted to own you. He thought he owned you. But he didn't, now, did he?"

"...No."

"That was a hesitant answer."

"It kind of felt like he did…" Rinea admits. "I didn't realize it until...until I saw that witch. Was that how he saw me? His...possession?"

Sonya doesn't answer.

"Would he...have sacrificed me?" Rinea swallows. "If I hadn't left him when I did…"

"I don't know," says Sonya. "But either way, you're safe from him now."

"I suppose." Rinea takes a deep breath, holds it, and then another. "But...why? What's...what's worth that price? Why would anyone give somebody they love to…"

"No, not somebody they love. Somebody they feel they possess," says Sonya darkly. "Don't confuse love and possession. Many people do."

"Possession…" The word stirs Rinea's memory. "He thought Alm...took me. Like I was a prize that had been stolen from him…"

"That doesn't surprise me, somehow," Sonya grumbles. "You know, men can be witches too. But it's a rare thing to come across. The Faithful preach that women have the raw magical power...and that men have the sense to control them. That's how the men of the Faithful justify their actions. When you get to the most devout Faithful...there's very few women among them who aren't witches. Few understand what they're getting into. Many, one way or another, either don't know better or have no choice at all. Either coerced or forced..."

"It's horrible…" Rinea whispers.

"It is." A smile curls across Sonya's lips. There's no humor in it. "My own father was a prolific witch-creator."

"Your father…"

"Yes. Thanks to my sisters, I made it out of there. They weren't so lucky. I avenged them, though. Mere hours ago."

Rinea thinks, and then gasps. "Your father is…is..."

Sonya nods. "Yes, most are familiar with him. I'm lucky that the family resemblance isn't strong. All told...I understand where you're coming from, Rinea. It's dreadful, isn't it?"

"I'm...I'm very sorry about your sisters."

"It's all right. I made peace with it long ago. They're at rest now."

"There's no way to save a witch?"

"Nobody knows of one," says Sonya. "But...when this war is over, I intend to find one. Many powerful witch-creators have died in this war. Among their research...perhaps I will find what I seek."

"I hope you can." Rinea swallows. "Thank you for helping me. I think...I think I understand a little better now."

"I hope understanding can bring you some peace," says Sonya. "But...if you could, I'd like to be alone now." She looks exhausted, as if the conversation has physically drained her.

"Of - of course." Rinea gets to her feet. "Thank you, again."

Sonya waves a manicured hand. Rinea bows, and then walks away, making her way between all the tents and crowds. Eventually, she ends up where the healers have set up shop.

"There you are," says Silque. "Are you all right?"

"Tired," Rinea manages.

"Then get some rest. We'll be facing Duma soon enough." Silque gestures to a line of bedrolls.

"All right…" Rinea removes her shoes and curls up on a bedroll, her mind a cacophony of stress and exhaustion and witches and worry.

Would Berkut have really sacrificed her? A year ago, or perhaps even a few days ago, she would have said no, of course not! He would never! But now...now, Rinea's uncertain.

In the end, it doesn't matter. He's gone, and she's not, and she needs to find a way forward, even through the haze of fear and weariness.

\---

Rinea must sleep, for she awakens to Silque bending over her. "Rinea? We're getting ready to go."

"Mmm." Rinea blinks, trying to clear her foggy head. "Right...to fight...Duma."

"Are you well?" Silque asks. "You can stay behind if you wish."

"No, no, I...I want to help." Rinea staggers into a sitting position. "Just...just give me a few minutes."

"All right." Silque stands up and goes over to the healers' supply cart, checking the inventory. Rinea waits a few more moments, until her head stops spinning, and then staggers to her feet. She's no less tired despite the sleep, but it doesn't matter.

Rinea wants to help. She likes the people of the Deliverance, and they helped her, and she wants to help them. She doesn't want the War Father to suffer, and she wants to put him to rest. Even if she doesn't know what's real and not real right now...she knows those things are true.

And when it's over...when it's over, she'll figure out the rest.

Rinea turns her staff in her hands as she walks with the others towards the grand doors. Alm and Celica are standing in front of them, talking in low voices.

"Everyone!" Celica calls as she turns to face the assembled crowds. "Thank you all for your loyalty and strength. We never would have made it this far without you."

"This will not be an easy fight," says Alm. "But together, with all of our courage and wisdom...I know we can do anything. I ask you all to believe in us, in yourselves, and in each other. Believe in our combined strength!"

"We've had the strength to live and fight for our world this whole time," says Celica. She clasps a hand to her chest. "I myself have lost faith in that, along the way...but it is the truth. I trust in mankind, and I trust in all of you. Absolutely, and without hesitation."

"Mila may be gone. Duma may be mad," says Alm. "But this isn't where things end for us. Even without gods, this world has a long and prosperous future ahead of it. Now let's go claim that future together!"

Alm and Celica both raise a fist above their heads, and the gathered army cheers as one.

"We know not just what lies beyond these doors," says Celica. "Let's be ready for anything. Now...are you ready, Alm?"

"Of course." Alm draws his Falchion, and in the same motion, Celica draws hers. Both raise their swords above their head, and the gems glow, and then the doors do too, and they slowly, slowly slide open.

Rinea realizes she should probably be afraid right now. But she isn't. This is a task, and it's set ahead of her, and all she has to do is heal, and she can do that.

It's easier than what lies after, but Rinea can't bring herself to think about that just yet.

Within the doors lies a chamber more massive than any that have come before it. Rinea has gotten used to the tunnels' constant smell of mildew and decay, but it is far more powerful here, strong enough to send her reeling. Thick, purple muck bubbles in a pool, and the room is crawling with Terrors, more than Rinea's ever seen in one place. And beyond them, in the far corner, Rinea can just make out the silhouette of something horrible.

"Alm and I need to get to Duma!" Celica shouts, pointing towards the form of the horrible thing. "Only the Falchions can seal him! Once he falls, the battle will end! The rest of you, keep these monsters off our backs!"

The army charges, cutting through the waves and waves of terrors. Everyone is reinvigorated and filled with purpose, shouting commands and taunts as they tear their way forward. Next to Rinea, Silque mutters a prayer under her breath as she readies a spell.

Rinea looks at the distant shape of Duma, thinks of all the witches' tortured screams, of the not-Rinea and the pain in her eyes, of Sonya's sisters, of all the blood, the blood, the infinite blood...and a part of her finally knows what she believes in.

Rinea swallows. "Subjugating others through power, treating them as your possessions, is...wrong. So I...I won't let it happen again!"

"Well said," says Sonya from nearby, a grim smile crawling across her face. "Now put it into action."

Rinea nods, and lifts her staff.

The whole thing must take over an hour. Whenever a Terror falls, another rises to take its place. Rinea loses track of time, of everything, of the world - she focuses on healing, constantly healing, her ears ringing with fatigue as Duma's magic ripples through the ground and shakes the earth and summons forth still more monsters. But eventually...eventually, Alm and Celica reach Duma, and together their blades tear through his warped form, and he falls, and the Terrors dissipate as his power breaks, and it is all over.

A voice echoes through the chamber, the weary, weary voice of a man, coming from the very earth, reverberating through their bones. "So be it...Alm...Celica. I leave Valentia's future to you, her heroes. Take from us what lessons you will and shape her into a land to remember. Make her strong like Duma, and fill her with Mila's love. Let our grave mistakes be warnings of where not to tread as you lead her forth. Now, we shall sleep. And never shall you disturb our slumber."

With those final words, it all ends. But for Rinea, that battle's ending only means the beginning of another.


	2. and flowers in your hair

The next week or so passes in a bit of a haze. They must return through the passages and back into Rigel Castle, and it is a far more efficient path without any monsters lurking beneath, although the journey is a blur for Rinea. There are political talks and plans being made - plans to, for the first time in countless centuries, unite Rigel and Zofia as the One Kingdom of Valentia. Alm and Celica will both be crowned to ensure that peace can be forged on equal footing, and together they will rule the entire continent.

Berkut wanted to unite Valentia, and rule. He spoke of that often, Rinea recalls, but the power Alm and Celica will wield is not like that which Berkut had sought. Already, Alm and Celica are laying out the goals of their reign - to limit the power of the noble classes, to bring about laws preventing the abuse and mistreatment of workers, to bring in a new Brotherhood of Knights, noble and common alike - things that Berkut would have scoffed at, or perhaps been thrown into a rage over. But, if she is honest with herself...Rinea thinks they all sound rather nice.

Several days after that last battle, Rinea is called to Rigel's throne room.

"I haven't gotten the opportunity to speak with you, Lady Rinea," says Alm as she enters. "No - no, don't curtsy."

Rinea quickly straightens up. "Yes, my lord."

"There isn't a need for any of that," says Celica, standing next to Alm. They haven't put in a second throne yet, so neither monarch sits. "We wanted to make sure you were all right."

Rinea doesn't know how to answer that. She's mostly been asleep this last week, and nobody's said anything about her moving out of her chambers in Rigel Castle. But she still intends to do so.

"If you want," says Celica, her voice soft, "we're happy for you to remain in our court."

"I know things...well, I know they're complicated," says Alm. "But I am happy to consider you family."

"I do appreciate that," says Rinea slowly. "But I - I don't wish to spend the rest of my life in a castle." That, at least, she is certain of.

"Of course. But we would be delighted if you would attend our coronation ceremonies," Celica says. "The crowning proper will be at the Sluice Gate on the border, but there will be parties to celebrate, as well. We're holding one here, and then one in Zofia Castle. All the people who helped us during the war are going to be attending as honored guests..."

"I would be happy to," says Rinea. "But after that...I think I'll be setting off."

"I hope you find peace, Lady Rinea," says Celica, her voice gentle. "You will always be welcome in the castles."

Rinea curtsies, excuses herself, and walks quickly from the room.

Welcome she might be, but Rinea can't see herself ever being comfortable within these stone walls again. They're too heavy with memories, heavy enough to suffocate.

Rinea finds Silque in the infirmary, of course. The cleric is humming softly to herself as she bustles among the beds, treating lingering injuries from the army's long, difficult journey.

"Ah, Rinea!" Silque turns to face her. "I'm glad to see you up and about."

"Yes…" Rinea twists her hands together. "Might we speak?"

"Of course. I'm finished here." Silque steps out into the hall, and Rinea follows. "What is it?"

Rinea takes a deep breath. "I think...I think I'd like to come with you. On your...travels. If you'd still like me to come?"

"Oh, certainly!" Silque's face lights up with a smile. "Now we're three! I'm quite excited, actually. I know together, we'll be able to do good work."

"I don't know how much help I'll be," says Rinea. "I'm not used to...roughing it. I've never even been to, well...a peasant village. For want of a better term."

"That's all right," says Silque. "I'm happy that you wish to join us. But I must ask if you're certain? We'll be going where we're needed, and it won't be an easy road."

"I'd be lying if I said I was certain," said Rinea. "But I've realized that I don't want to stay in the castle, and I…" She thinks of her parents' faces. She hasn't missed them once since leaving home, and she doesn't think she ever will. "I don't want to go back to my family home. I don't know where I do belong, but...but perhaps if I travel with you, I'll be able to find it. And maybe...maybe I'll be able to understand…" Rinea swallows. "Like what Faye said, back in the tunnels...maybe I'll find out who I really am."

"All right," says Silque. "Well, Alm and Celica will be having their coronation party in a week or so, and after that, we're all headed to the Sluice Gate for the coronation, and Zofia Castle for the second party. From there, we'll be leaving the court and moving on our own. Faye wants to visit her family, so that's where we're going first. After that...we'll follow rumors, and go where we're needed."

"Okay." Rinea takes a deep breath.

"Are you well?"

"A traveling healer...isn't exactly what I was raised to be." Rinea folds her hands. "I don't know...I don't think I'll be any good at it…"

"I've already told you, that's perfectly fine," says Silque. "As long as you're willing to learn, that's all that matters."

"Okay." Rinea swallows. "Okay. Um...what should I bring? How should I pack? I don't even know how to start..."

"Perhaps some more practical clothes would be in order," says Silque. "I can help you, if you wish."

"I'd appreciate that. I'm sorry I'm such a burden - "

"You aren't a burden," says Silque. "I'm sorry so many people made you think you were."

Rinea sniffles.

"Come on." Silque slips an arm around Rinea's shoulders. "Don't worry. We'll stick together, and it will be all right. You'll see."

"I've never done anything right in my life," Rinea mumbles.

"I doubt that's true."

"It is! I thought, when Berkut and I got engaged - I thought I was finally doing something right! But all that went wrong too, and I...if I hadn't been such a doormat, or if I'd been _better,_ maybe he wouldn't've…"

"I'm _certain_ none of that is true," says Silque.

"Being his wife was all I was ever good for," Rinea is rambling now, barely noticing Silque anymore. "I messed that up, like I mess everything up, and now nobody will want me, and…"

"Rinea!" Silque takes her by the shoulders, her grip soft, easy to twist away from if Rinea so chooses, but still grounding. "Please, just listen to me. I do want you along. I promise."

Rinea sniffles.

"Faye does, too. Please, try to be kinder to yourself. You did a good, no, a _great_ thing by helping Alm and the Deliverance reach the altar of Duma. You turned your back on everyone and everything you knew to do the right thing. You helped save the world - and above all, you saved yourself. Those are things to take pride in." Silque releases Rinea's shoulders and steps back. "I am happy to help you. As are the rest of us. It will be all right. I promise you, nobody hates you. Nobody will think any less of you."

"I don't deserve it," Rinea whispers. "What have I done to deserve kindness?"

"What have you done to not deserve it?"

Rinea freezes.

Silque pats her shoulder. "Come on. Let's go see if we can find Faye. She'll be eager to help get you some new clothes for our journey, and it'll take your mind off things. All right?"

Rinea swallows. "All...all right."

Silque takes Rinea's hand, and they leave Rigel Castle together.

\---

It's been less than a year since Rinea last stood among the halls of Zofia Castle, but it feels like a lifetime ago.

It's as she remembers it, but with a key difference - the only residents are a handful of early-arriving partygoers both Rigelian and Zofian alike, and there's not a uniformed soldier to be seen. An improvement, to be certain. But…

But the last time Rinea was here, she was engaged. She was happy. She was in love. She stood on the balcony on the uppermost floor, among crates of supplies and shrouded in soft afternoon light, and a battle raged on below her, and she did nothing to stop any of it…

Rinea feels a bit like she's moving through a dream as she walks down the halls. She half expects to see her younger self dance by, awash with love and bliss and ignorance.

She half expects to see Berkut.

But of course, he isn't there. He's gone. He's been gone for a good few weeks. The fact still hasn't quite set in. It all happened so quickly…

Rinea didn't know where her feet had been carrying her, but when she comes to a stop in front of a set of towering double doors, she isn't at all surprised. It's the entrance to Zofia Castle's ballroom.

If she pushes these doors open, will she see a pair of dancing lovers? Will she see a besotted fool in love in the arms of a man who would be her undoing? This is the last place she and Berkut ever danced, and...and she has to see it. She must. She doesn't know why.

Rinea lifts a hand, takes a deep breath, and then shoves against the doors. It takes a fair bit of effort, but they creak open and Rinea slips inside.

It's as she remembers it - the sparkling chandeliers, the high, swooping ceilings, the polished tile that Rinea can catch sight of her own reflection in. Her slippers pad softly against those tiles as Rinea makes her way out into the center. There will be dancing here, later, to honor King Albein Alm Rudolf II and Queen Celica Anthiese Lima I as the first rulers of Valentia. But the ballroom's deserted now.

It's still beautiful, though. Rinea stands in the center, turning slowly as she takes it all in. It feels surreal. It's as though she's inside a picture book, looking at scenery a different, fictional person saw. The old Rinea, who danced here, happily and carefree, and the current Rinea, who feels like a thistle in a garden of lilies, whose shoulders are heavy with burdens she can't even put into words.

"It's really nice here, isn't it?"

Rinea starts and turns towards the doors. Tatiana is walking through them, a cavernous thunk echoing through the ballroom as they fall shut behind her. "The ballroom, I mean. It's amazing. Nothing like anything we have in Rigel."

"Oh…" Rinea swallows. "Yes, it is."

Tatiana hums a waltz softly as she walks across the shining floor towards Rinea. "Zofia's really different. We lived close to the border, so I thought it couldn't be so different, but...it is. It's like another world."

"I suppose...the Zofians certainly feel different," says Rinea. "They've all been...so kind and patient. N-not that there aren't kind Rigelians, but - "

"No, I know what you mean," Tatiana muses. "In Rigel, it's always about...strength. It's not like we dispose of the weak or anything, back home, but it's...it's so different. War is treated...as a simple fact of life. And everyone wants to be a soldier of some kind...either a soldier or a member of the Faithful, I guess."

Rinea nods. "And we thought the Zofians to be lazy fools."

"Well, in some ways, we were right," says Tatiana with a shrug. "Both countries followed their god's decrees a little too well in some cases."

"Yes…" Rinea's hands clench in the skirts of her gown. "When I learned about witches, I...I couldn't believe I ever followed Duma. What good can there be in a god that warps the human form so? That treats their followers as...as sacrifices?"

"I felt the same way, sometimes," says Tatiana. "I was, well, am, part of the Old Faithful...we worship both Mila and Duma. But witches weren't always like that…when their master went mad, so did they."

"It's still horrible, though," mumbles Rinea. "Nobody should have a master...not like that. Nobody should belong to somebody else."

"You're right," says Tatiana. "But it's all going to change. According to Alm and Celica...this is the end of the age of gods. Now it's time for an age of men."

"What do you think will happen to Rigel under Alm?" Rinea asks. "He might be the Emperor's son, but he was raised in Zofia…"

"I don't know," says Tatiana. "But I think it'll be all right. Both countries need some real work. And I think Alm and Celica know how to work."

Rinea nods.

"That's enough philosophy for one day!" Tatiana claps her hands together as if banishing such topics from the room. "I wanted to ask you...are you doing okay?" Even though Tatiana's voice is soothing and her smile genuine, Rinea's stomach clenches. Everyone's _always_ asking her that.

"Oh, you know," Rinea manages. _I'm not sure I know what 'okay' is anymore._

"I heard that you're going in Silque's group," says Tatiana. "I'm glad! I think that will be good for you."

Rinea nods. She doesn't know what else to do.

Tatiana holds out her arms at her sides and twirls slowly, watching the chandeliers spin above her. "When I was a little girl, I dreamed about being in a place like this someday."

"Oh?"

"Yes...I grew up in the clergy. I was an orphan, and they took me in. It's not like I was starving or anything, but things weren't always easy. I heard stories about castles and kings...so I daydreamed. Doesn't every little girl want to grow up and live in a castle?"

"I don't really remember," says Rinea.

"Mmm." Tatiana stops twirling, her gown and sash settling around her. "Hey, want to dance?"

"What?"

"Just for fun!" Tatiana holds out a hand. "Doesn't dancing alone in a ballroom sound exciting?"

"I…" Rinea swallows, memories pressing down onto her shoulders like a physical weight.

"You don't have to!" says Tatiana quickly. "I don't mind!"

"No...no, it's all right." Rinea takes Tatiana's hand as the other woman moves to withdraw it. "Let's dance."

"Great!" Tatiana takes Rinea's waist. "Okay, and...one, two, three…"

Berkut was a forceful dance partner, and Rinea only realizes that now that she's dancing with Tatiana instead. Rinea's used to simply following footsteps, a plan set for her by another, but Tatiana defers to Rinea - not steering outright, her touch on Rinea's waist only a light guide. They circle the ballroom together, the light reflecting off their hair and dresses.

Tatiana laughs, her expression bright and carefree. That's new too. Berkut would smile during dances, yes, but it always a smile of - pride, and self-confidence, not the simple joy that's on Tatiana's face now. Rinea's distracted by that realization, and her shoe catches on the hem of Tatiana's dress, snagging the fabric, and Rinea's stomach clenches, and the room goes fuzzy -

"Whoops!" says Tatiana cheerfully. "No problem! I - Rinea, are you okay?"

Rinea chokes for breath that won't seem to come.

"Rinea!" Tatiana's eyes widen. "It's all right! You didn't hurt yourself, did you?"

"Sorry," Rinea babbles, scrambling backwards away from Tatiana. "I - I made a mistake, I'm - sorry, sorry, sorry - "

"It's just a dress! You're okay. I'm not mad!" Tatiana clasps Rinea's hands in her own. "Breathe, okay? In and out. With me. In...and out."

Rinea tries to focus, to match her breathing with Tatiana's. The room starts to get a little clearer.

"There you go," says Tatiana. "It's okay, Rinea. You're okay."

Rinea takes a deep breath that shudders on its way out.

"Hey, don't worry." Tatiana twitches her skirts to hide the loose thread. "There, see? Good as new. Not that it really matters."

"I'm sorry if I scared you," Rinea whispers. "I don't - I don't know why I freaked out like that."

"It's okay." Tatiana squeezes Rinea's hands once more before letting go. "I won't push you."

"Thank you for helping me."

"It's no trouble! I'm a cleric, right?" Tatiana's back to being cheerful, eyes sparkling as she folds her hands behind her. "Part of my job."

The door creaks open again, and Rinea starts, but Tatiana only waves. "Hi, Zeke! Just checking out the ballroom."

Rinea fights the urge to flee at the sight of General Ezekiel entering the ballroom. He's always imposing and stern-looking, and in his formal Rigelian attire he reminds her of...things she doesn't want to remember.

"There you are, Tatiana," says Ezekiel. "The celebration is beginning shortly."

Tatiana gasps. "Oh, I completely lost track of time! We should get going…"

"Yes," says Rinea, leaping at the excuse. "I really must be on my way. I'll...see you at the celebrations, Tatiana." She hurries towards the doors, desperate to get away from the ballroom and its crushing weight.

"Lady Rinea?" Ezekiel's call echoes through the ballroom.

Rinea's chest tightens as she turns back. "General?"

"I simply wished to express my condolences," Ezekiel's voice is quieter and softer now, moreso than Rinea has ever heard it before.

"None are needed," says Rinea quickly. "It's not - we weren't together anymore - "

"No, not for Lord Berkut," says Ezekiel. "For everything that happened to you."

"I...oh." Tears sting at the back of Rinea's eyes. "Um...thank you." It sounds pathetic even to her own ears.

"Look after yourself, Rinea," says Tatiana.

Rinea nods, and then turns and, for the last time, leaves the Zofia Castle ballroom behind.

\---

The morning after the coronation party, the air is thick with mist, soft and heather-gray, not quite blocking out the sun's first white rays over the Zofia forests. It's a morning of promise, of new beginnings. At least, Rinea hopes.

Rinea feels awkward in the simple blouse, woven shawl, and wool skirt Faye had selected for her some days before. Heavy traveling boots feel awkward and unfamiliar on feet used to light slippers, and her neck feels oddly bare with her hair thickly braided and wound around her head. It's all far more simple than any of the outfits she's worn in the past, and even more unlike the elaborate dresses her mother had always forced her into.

Rinea has made no attempt to contact her parents since the war, and in turn, neither have they. But Rinea feels no sense of loss over this.

Faye stretches, her traveling pack lying on the ground by her feet. "Beautiful morning, isn't it? A good day to travel."

Silque looks more excited than Rinea's ever seen her as she watches the two of them, hands folded. "This will be quite the adventure, won't it? I'm eager to see more of the world."

"Well, it's just going to be Ram Village at first," says Faye with a sheepish giggle. "But I really do want to check in with Ma, Pa, and Nana before we get going. And then...the world. I want to learn more about Valentia...and about people."

"I'm happy to teach," says Silque. "I've spent a good portion of my life on the road, traveling - both in Zofia and Rigel. It's not an easy life, but I find it quite fulfilling."

"Well, I'm ready to head out when you all are!" says Faye. Her eyes keep flitting back to Zofia Castle, despite her wide smile.

"Of course," says Silque. "Rinea, are you ready?"

"Yes," says Rinea quickly, gripping the strap of her bag. "I - I'll do my best."

"Then let's go!" Faye cheers. "To Ram Village - away!"

\---

Life on the road is...uncomfortable. They walk along rusty-red dirt roads and through winding forests, between trees and rocks that are easy to turn an ankle on if one isn't careful. Food is largely hunted or gathered, whatever they happen to find - usually meat, herbs, and oranges, thick and plentiful in Zofia's signature groves. The group stops at villages along the way, but while they trade for what they need, overall most of their possessions are just what they started out with and what they can make with their own hands and wits. If there are any sick or injured in the villages they pass through, they heal them as best they can, and if the villagers wish it, Silque will lead a service or provide counsel. And once everything's done, they're off again.

There's no real schedule - they get up at sunrise, prepare, and set on their way, and then at sunset they stop and make camp again, but it's not precise by any means. Duties are shared, but not strictly delegated. There's a lot of camping in tents, and cooking over an open fire, and generally messy awkwardness.

Rinea loves and detests it at the same time.

Nobody's telling her what to do, and that's terrifying. Oh, Silque guides her through the motions of making dinner, and Faye will steer her back onto the path if she gets disoriented, but Rinea has the ability to walk away, and it's always advice, never orders. Without direction, Rinea's certain she'll fail. She'll fail. She _can't_ be this free.

The sky is so open and so big, the possibilities are endless, and that is so, so scary. The stone walls have crumbled down and Rinea's left blinking and disoriented in the sunlight.

Once, as a child, Rinea had a pet bird. It always lived in its gilded cage, and Rinea was forbidden from removing it from those bars, to prevent it from making a mess. But one day, in an uncharacteristic fit of daring, Rinea let it hop on her bedroom floor. Just for a moment.

It had stood there, head tilted, surveying its surroundings. Then it had hopped back into its cage.

At the time, Rinea hadn't understood why.

Now, though...now she thinks she does.

They make camp for the night in one of those orange groves. Rinea absent-mindedly peels one of the sharp-smelling fruit as they sit around the campfire at twilight, the gentle bustle having settled for the evening and the only sounds the soft chirps of cicadas and wind rustling among the leaves.

"Guess what? I got a deer!" Faye cheers, poking her head into the clearing. "Loads of meat on it, too!"

"Oh, that's excellent!" Silque gets her feet. "Thank you for your blessings, Earth Mother. I'll get to butchering that right away."

"Nah, you sit and rest! Put your feet up! You've been working harder than any of us, and I've got this," says Faye.

"Well, if you're certain," Silque sets back down. "I'll watch the fire."

Faye bounds back off into the woods, leaving Silque and Rinea in the clearing alone.

Silque clears her throat. "How are you today, Rinea?"

Rinea manages a shrug.

"If you ever wish to turn back," says Silque, "I am happy to find a village willing to transport you to your home."

"I don't have a home," says Rinea. "But - but even if I did, I don't want to go back. I just - I thought if I left the castles behind, I'd feel better."

"Do you?"

"I don't know." Rinea tucks up a few stray hairs that have escaped her braid. "I mostly just feel...lost, I guess."

"Hm." Silque stokes the fire with a branch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I can't keep just dumping my problems on you…"

"Well, I'm happy to help you carry them. It's no burden to me, I assure you."

Rinea watches the fire dance in the evening air. It makes her think of -

_My beloved Rinea. Beautiful, isn't she?_

_\- a wailing voice and streaming eyes, a creature in endless pain, reaching for her -_

"Rinea?"

Rinea shakes herself. "I guess I'm still sad. And hurt. And scared. I don't...I don't know what to say about it."

"Those are all understandable ways to feel."

"And - and I thought it would lift, but everything still feels...foggy. Like everything that's happened since then wasn't even real." Rinea holds up her hands, studying them. They're blistered from days of exposure to chores and elements they'd never known before. "I'm just drifting through the world."

Silque looks thoughtful. Quiet settles in the clearing for a few moments.

"Rinea?"

"Yes?"

"You said you feel sad, and hurt, and scared, and disconnected...and do tell me if I'm putting words in your mouth, but...do you ever feel...angry?"

"Angry?" Rinea blinks.

"At your former betrothed. At Duma. At the world. At everything that allowed this to happen to you." Silque's blue eyes are green-tinged in the fire's orange light.

"I…" Rinea thinks. "I don't know. I just...I've never really...never been angry."

"Never been angry? Or never let yourself be angry?"

The fire crackles.

Rinea swallows. "I don't...I don't know."

"My mother abandoned me," says Silque, as conversationally and light-toned as if she is discussing the weather. "She was a cleric of the Duma Faithful. We went on long pilgrimages throughout Rigel together when I was a child."

Rinea's eyes widen. "You're from Rigel?"

"Yes, although I was raised in Zofia. You see, my mother left me there, in the care of a priory on the isle of Novis. She left without a word of farewell - tucked me into bed that evening, and when morning came, she was gone." Silque's eyes flicker in the light. "I was terribly sad, of course. I had no father, no other family. My mother was all I had ever known. And I feared a future without her. It was many years before I realized...that I was angry. Terribly angry. How dare she do such a thing? How dare she leave me behind with no explanations or apologies?"

"I'm so sorry."

"There's no need. At the time, I felt guilt for my anger," Silque continues. "It felt unproductive, and harmful, and unkind. But in the end...pushing my anger away only made it fester further. By embracing it...I was able to find peace. Allow yourself to be angry, Rinea - whether it is at your family, your enemies, or the world itself. It does not make you a lesser person to feel an emotion as human as joy or sorrow."

"I…" Rinea picks at her nails. "I don't know if I'm angry. I'm not sure I know how to be angry."

"That's all right. Just give it some thought. If you are...it's okay to let it out."

"Did you...ever find out what happened to your mother?"

"For many years, I did not know. But when I was traveling with the Deliverance…" Silque lowers her eyes. "I saw what had become of most of the female clergy in the Duma Faithful, and what they had been used for. And when I consider that my mother deliberately left me at a temple of Mila, as far south as possible from Rigel and the Faithful's influence...well, I do not think it a stretch to suspect that my mother…"

"Oh. I'm so, so sorry…"

"It's okay," says Silque. "I had long suspected she no longer lived. She is with the Mother now. And I am grateful that she shielded me from her fate as well as she could. More than that, I am grateful to the priory on Novis and the Mother herself, for their guidance in the darkest time of my life. I hope to share that blessing with the people of Valentia - hence my journey now."

"Thank you, Silque. For everything."

"I am happy to be of assistance." Silque smiles. "Please think on my words, if they can bring you any peace."

"I'll...I'll try."

"Who wants venison?" Faye calls, returning to the clearing. "There's loads!"

Silque pats Rinea's shoulder as she gets to her feet. Rinea stares into the fire, and lets the memories consume her.

\---

_"Berkut! Stop! Stop this!" She screams and fights against the form carrying her, pounding her fists ineffectively against the cold steel of armor. "Don't do this! Please!"_

_He doesn't answer, a man with purpose and an unshakable mission, as he walks across the temple's stone floor, approaching the brazier. Rinea can feel the heat of the flames, and recoils from them. "Stop! Please stop!"_

_"For Duma," Berkut mumbles. "For power."_

_"No!"_

_He throws her into the flames, and Rinea screams as they curl around her, consume her, taking everything, burning her away and leaving only pain, pain and power - and she screams and cries and struggles and firey arms wrap around her neck and drag her down, down, down, and Berkut laughs and her mother scolds and her father shakes his head and she cries out for help, reaching for them, but they all turn away, because this is all she is good for, all she is worth -_

Rinea gasps for air, staring up at the canvas ceiling of her small tent. She's kicked off the covers in her panic, lying sideways on the bedroll.

She's safe, Rinea tells herself, trying to take deep breaths. She's safe, and she's in Zofia with Silque and Faye. Berkut is gone, and he can't hurt her, and he didn't sacrifice her, and she's alive.

The nightmares have been regular since the exhaustion of her ordeal had faded. Nightmares of what might have happened to Rinea if she hadn't fled the basement that evening, strong and crushing and scary.

That vestal could have been her. Rinea can't know what would have happened, and yet she does know, deep in her bones. For power, Berkut would have killed her. And that's scary, and sad, and it makes her feel -

How _does_ it make her feel? Yes, scared and sad, but…

_Do you ever feel...angry?_

Rinea sits up and fumbles her way out of the tent, which suddenly feels far, far too small for her. Outside in the night air, beneath the trees and stars, as far as possible from the Rigel Castle basement and Duma's shrines, she feels a little safer.

"Rinea?"

Rinea starts, and turns to where Faye is sitting by the dying campfire, restringing her bow.

Faye gives a little wave. "What's up? What're you doing out here this late? Bathroom?"

"No...just fresh air." Rinea swallows, willing her heart to pound at an ordinary rate again. "And you?"

"Keeping watch! Bears and stuff." Faye twangs her bowstring. "You know that, right?"

"I...guess. Sorry. I'm a little addled."

"Wanna come sit? Company would be nice."

"Okay." Rinea seats herself next to Faye, watching her work. "Sorry for bugging you."

"No, no, it's not bugging me at all! You apologize too much."

"Oh, sorry. I mean - uh - "

"Don't worry about it. You remind me of Celica sometimes. Yep, that's that all done." Faye begins putting her supplies away.

"Of Celica?"

"Well, peaceful to a fault. A little too peaceful. Quick to feel guilty." Faye nods sagely. "Not that that's, like, a bad thing, but I don't think it's healthy."

"You're not the first person to tell me that," Rinea mumbles, picking up a stick from the ground and poking at the campfire to give her hands something to do.

"That doesn't surprise me, somehow." Faye leans against a log. "Did Silque give you the speech about how it's okay to be angry?"

"Well - yes, actually."

Faye giggles. "Yep, thought so. Did you think about it?"

"I have, but - " Rinea bites her lip. "I don't...I don't know if I know how to be angry. It feels so wrong, and unkind, to lean into it. It feels easier to be sad or guilty or frightened…"

"Hmm…" Faye taps an arrow against her chin. "Would a physical aid help?"

"An aid?"

"Here!" Faye leans over and tugs her sword out of her belt. "Ta-da!"

"Um," Rinea says, shrinking away, "I don't - "

"Not, like, cutting someone with it! Just take a few swings at that tree over there," says Faye. "It always makes me feel better, anyway. It's not a super big or sharp sword, so you should be okay."

Rinea looks down at the sword, swallows, and then takes it by the hilt. Despite what Faye said, it feels terribly heavy.

"Just a few whacks," says Faye. "I know it wouldn't really be productive or anything, but I think that could be a good thing for you. Help you find that anger and let it out."

Rinea walks over to the tree and hefts the sword. Then she takes a deep breath and swings it.

It's a clumsy blow, and all it does is chip off a few shards of bark, but Faye claps. "There you go!"

Feeling rather foolish, Rinea tries again. She's not sure how she's supposed to be doing this. Should she be picturing Berkut's face? Her parents'?

They'd all think she was being an idiot, Rinea realizes as she swings the sword once more. Foolish and emotional and childish. Anger isn't becoming on a lady. Neither is destruction. She should be passive, and quiet, and well-behaved -

\- but what did that ever get her? A fiancé who tried to kill her? Isolation and self-loathing and a desire to please that overrides all common sense? Crippling fear around others and a belief that even stepping on someone's skirt wrong was a sin deserving of punishment?

Forgetting herself, not noticing her breathing growing heavier and more frenzied in her ears, Rinea swings the sword again and again, not noticing where it lands or seeing much of anything except her own memories. They hurt her. They all hurt her, over and over again, and she just backed down and _took_ it, and what did she do to deserve that? _Why_ were they so cruel to her? And Berkut -

"Woah, Rinea!" Faye is hurrying over to her. "Maybe slow down, I don't want you to hurt yourself…"

"I - I _hate_ him!" Rinea's hand is shaking on the sword's hilt. Her arms and shoulders ache. "How _dare_ he? How dare he take everything from me? All I wanted was to love him! All I wanted was kindness! Why - why did he - "

"Because he sucked," says Faye lowly. "He really sucked. But you don't. And now you can be free from him."

Rinea yells, wordless and incoherent, and swings the sword one last time. It slams into the side of the tree, hard enough that the leaves far above their heads rustle and a few oranges plop down into the grass, and the blade sticks there, half-buried in the old trunk.

"Um, woah," Faye mumbles. "Guess that was good for you, huh?"

There's a rustle from behind them, and both Faye and Rinea turn to see Silque sticking her head out of her tent, hair mussed and blinking slowly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," says Faye quickly, stepping in front of the sword sticking out of the tree. "Go back to sleep. I've got it."

"Hmm...okay." Silque withdraws.

Faye tugs the sword free of the tree and returns it to her belt. "Don't want her to worry. She needs her rest - she always works herself too hard."

"Yeah…" Rinea is breathing heavily.

Faye rests a hand on her shoulder. "You all right?"

"Mm…" Rinea winces at the soreness in her muscles. "I...might have gotten carried away there."

"That's okay! You probably didn't get much opportunity to get carried away before. Am I right?"

"Yes...you're right." Rinea sighs and stretches. For the first time in awhile, she doesn't feel like she's floating, or pushing something away. The anger, and the honesty of it, grounds her.

"Did it help at all?"

"Maybe?" Rinea looks at the poor tree. It's nearly stripped of bark across the middle. "I think...I think I'm a little more comfortable with the idea of being angry. Maybe."

"That's a start, then." Faye pats her shoulder again. "And don't worry about feeling the 'right' way. Everyone feels things differently. It's normal."

"Thanks, Faye."

"No problem!"

"Should I take over the watch?"

"Nah, I got this. You go get some sleep."

Rinea returns to her tent and curls up in her bedroll again, still fatigued from effort. Still, it's an oddly satisfying kind of fatigue.

\---

Not every stop is a happy one.

They practically stumble into the small village. The air tastes of dust and heat, the buildings are ramshackle at best and a pile of boards at worst, and there's a faint smell of despair and lost hope in the air. Rinea didn't realize those things had a smell until just now.

Silque shakes her head as they walk down the road, which is little more than a foot-trod path where no dead grass remains. "Mother, preserve us."

Faye looks unusually grave too as she looks over the sad scene. "Yeah...they must've gotten hit hard by the famine here."

"We'll do what we can," says Silque firmly. "Hello? Is anyone home?"

Faces are beginning to peep out of windows and around cracked doors.

"We are traveling clerics," says Silque, holding up her staff. "We are happy to heal your sick and injured, and help find some food and water."

A few people begin to trickle out of the doors, and Silque hauls her bag further up her shoulder. "What's the largest building where we can set up a clinic?"

"My old barn's pretty big," an elderly, toothless man mumbles. "It's right this way."

The barn isn't pretty big, or big at all, Rinea would say, but it's four walls and a roof. Silque begins unpacking her things, already in full swing, what Faye calls "Silque mode."

"If you could fetch any rags you'd be willing to spare," says Silque as she sets down a box of healing herbs, "I would appreciate it. Is there a well around here?"

"Yes…" says a tired-looking woman, carrying a frighteningly still infant. "But...it's broken, and we've nobody who can repair it…"

"I'll give it my best!" says Faye, rolling up her sleeves. "Can somebody show me where it is?"

A young child takes her hand and leads her back out of the barn.

"Rinea, help me get set up," says Silque. "If everyone who needs healing could please line up here? You're welcome to sit down if you wish. I'm afraid it will be a bit of a wait, but I promise I'll get to everyone in turn."

The tired, beaten-down people take seats along the barn wall. Rinea kneels next to Silque and starts spreading out blankets to make makeshift beds for the patients. "How...how did this happen?"

"Famine and war," says Silque in a low tone. "The nobles of Zofia force the peasants to fight their battles for them. The most able-bodied of the village were all but forced into duty...with the fields drying up after the Mother's blessing ended, they had no other way to make any money. But the knights of Zofia aren't a strong force. Most of those soldiers never made it back home, and many of those who did...were gravely injured, both in body and spirit. What remains here...are those soldiers, and the elderly, and the sick, and the young, and a handful of parents...and they're too sick and hungry to replant lost fields and rebuild. Thus the cycle cannot be broken."

"Rigel lost a lot of her people to famine, too," says Rinea. "But I thought...I thought Zofia was a land of plenty."

"I'm afraid such things often only apply to the upper classes around here." Silque's smile is sad and humorless.

"Can we really help?"

"We can try our best," says Silque simply. "And we can hope that that will be enough. All right, I'm all set up. If you would please step forward, ma'am? Thank you. Rinea, you take that line."

Rinea turns to the first person facing her. It's a child, barely over the age of seven and terribly thin and pale. Rinea swallows hard. "What...can you tell me where it hurts?"

"Not for me," the child whispers, and then lifts what Rinea had thought was a bundle of rags in their arms. "For my little sister…"

"Oh," says Rinea, taking the baby and inspecting her. She's running a fever. "Where...are your parents?"

"Ma died in the war," the older sibling mumbles, fiddling with their ratty tunic.

"I'm so sorry."

"S'okay."

Rinea fumbles in the medicine box, finds the fever tonic, and carefully pours a few drops onto the child's unresisting tongue. "This should help. If she's not better in a few hours, bring her back here."

"Thanks," says the sibling, taking her back. "I owe ya one."

"It's no trouble." Rinea smiles, resisting the urge to scream and cry. "Next, please."

The line slowly, slowly drags along. There are illnesses and injuries aplenty, all worsened by hunger and thirst and heat. So much sickness, so much hurt...it's worse than the battle injuries Rinea has treated in the past. Those were soldiers, fighters. These are just _people_ , who gained nothing from the war but horror and pain…

Is this what Berkut wanted? Is this what he fought for? Would he have helped these people? Would he have thought them, the sick and the weak, worthy of help?

Rinea already knows the answer. And she would have just sat in her ivory tower back at Rigel Castle, and never even imagined...

"Thank you, miss," an old woman mumbles as Rinea closes the sores on her arms. "You're a kind person. The world could use more people like you."

Rinea chokes on her next breath. "I…"

The woman only pats her face before laboriously climbing to her feet and tottering away. Rinea stares after her.

They spend over a week there. Faye pops back to a larger town and returns with wheat seed and a few citizens willing to help the less fortunate, and while there aren't enough workers to replant every field, they're able to get a decent amount in the ground, enough to at least provide some sustenance in the future. Silque provides counsel to the struggling citizens, gentle and confidential coaching as she helps them figure out a world without what they've lost. They teach the villagers what they can of not only healing and medicine, but gathering, hunting, and farming.

When she isn't healing, Rinea carries buckets of laundry, heavier than anything she's ever lifted before, scrubbing away infection and decay to keep sickness from returning. Faye continues repairing what she can, patching up roofs and ensuring the well is safe and accessible, and Rinea does her best to help. She mends ripped clothing and boards up broken windows and hauls buckets of water and works, so, so hard, and maybe it makes a little bit of difference. Rinea isn't certain, but she hopes it does. She wants it to. If she can help even a little...

There's only so much they can do for the little village, but when they leave it behind, the people look a good deal healthier. They have a chance to find their footing now, Silque says. It's the best they can give them.

\---

As they move further and further south, the air grows warmer. Rinea sheds her shawl and stockings but still sweats, unused to the heat and humidity of southern Zofia after years in the snowy mountains of Rigel. The other two aren't nearly as phased, having grown up in the area, and Silque even comments that it's still cooler than Novis. The air is heavy with the smell of citrus as they make their way through groves of orange trees and thick forests, past humble villages and farmland that is just beginning to regrow.

"There it is!" Faye calls, pointing to a small cluster of shabby buildings on the horizon. "Ram Village! We're home!"

"Thank the Mother," says Silque.

"Just in time for supper," Faye murmurs, smiling to herself. "Come on, let's go!"

There's a flurry of commotion as the group enters the village, people opening their windows and rushing onto the dirt roads.

"Hi, everyone!" Faye calls, waving. "I'm home!"

"Faye!" A man calls, running forward and catching her up in a hug. "You're all right!"

"Of course I'm all right, Pa!" Faye plants her hands on her hips. "Did you really think so little of me?"

"Thank goodness," mumbles a woman whom Rinea assumes is Faye's mother. "I couldn't believe it until I laid eyes on you. You had us all worried sick! Rushing off like that with hardly a word of farewell!"

"Hey, I wrote letters home! Lots of them!" Faye pouts, but leans into her mother's embrace. "It's nice to see you, too."

"Who are your friends, Faye?" calls another villager.

"Oh! This is Sister Silque, and this is Rinea." Faye says, gesturing to each of them in turn. "We're traveling together."

"Well, it's good to meet you all," says Faye's mother, nodding to them. "We must celebrate Faye's homecoming. We don't have much to spare by way of food, but what we have is good, and there'll be some entertainment, of course."

"Oh, we couldn't impose - " Silque begins.

"Nonsense! We've had precious little to celebrate around here for awhile," says another woman. She looks vaguely familiar, Rinea thinks. "After all, it's been lonely without all of you…"

"Tobin's fine," says Faye quickly, grasping the woman's hands. "He wanted me to send you his love."

"Really…" the woman murmurs. "But he's not coming home…"

"Gray hasn't written in weeks," says a man standing behind her.

"Kliff hasn't written at all!" grumbles a sharp-faced woman.

"W-well, it's really busy back in the capital. You know, knighthood and all." Faye rubs awkwardly at the back of her head. "I'm - I'm sure the boys will come visit! Once things settle down!"

"So you're really here without Alm?" Faye's father asks, his eyebrows raising.

"Of - of course! We're not joined at the hip, you know. I can go places without him!" Faye's giggle is a little shaky. "How's Nana doing?"

"Quite well today," says Faye's mother. "You should come see her…"

"Of course!" says Faye. "Silque, come here! I want you to meet Nana."

"Oh, really?" Silque looks rather stunned, but allows Faye to lead her away by the hand. Rinea is left behind in the road, surrounded by curious faces and feeling entirely out of place.

"Rinea, was it?" Rinea starts and turns into the smiling face of Tobin's mother. "Would you be able to help us get things ready for this evening? We'd like to celebrate Faye visiting home, you see…"

"O-oh, well…" Rinea swallows. "I don't think I'll be of much help…"

"Any help is appreciated," says Gray's father. "We usually have group meals when we're celebrating around here. If you could help us drag some table and chairs out to the town square…"

"Where is the town square?"

"Er, we're standing in it."

"Ah," says Rinea quickly. "I - of course. It's been a long journey. I apologize…"

"No trouble at all," says Gray's father mildly. "Come on, this way…"

Small though Ram Village might be, they are still eager to celebrate. Tables and chairs are brought from houses out into the little town square, and children gather flowers and ribbons and begin decorating with a reckless hand. By the time Silque, Faye, and Faye's family reappear in the square, events are in full swing.

"Wow, you guys can really put a party together," Faye laughs as she tousles the hair of one of the children. "It looks great!"

"Only the best," says Faye's mother with a smile quite like her daughter's.

As the afternoon becomes evening and then twilight, Rinea is treated to Ram Village hospitality. While not everyone is quite as effusive and outgoing as Faye herself, the village is welcoming. Several people treat Rinea as if they've known her all her life. Food is brought out, the smell of cooking drifting through the air, and while it's not nearly as plentiful or elegant as any feast or celebration Rinea's ever been to, it's served with a great deal of passion and excitement. As they eat, a group of people performs some sort of Zofian folk dance on a raised platform made of someone's dining room table, and the sound of laughter rings through the air as everyone jokes and reminisces. Faye's grandmother, brought out in a chair pushed along by the rest of the family, tells stories that make Rinea blush. Silque leads several people in a folk song, her voice soft and warm, and Faye and several of the children weave wreaths out of wildflowers and distribute them to even the village's oldest and most severe-looking members.

Zofia is known for their festivity, Rinea supposes. She can see those values even out here in Ram.

Faye is twisting wildflowers into Rinea's braid. One of her crowns sits askew in her own hair. "They're fun here, huh?"

"It's very...Zofian."

Faye laughs. "I guess so. How're you?"

"A little overwhelmed."

"I can understand that. If you need time to yourself...Ma's got a little flower garden out back of our house." Faye points. "Over there. It's pretty secluded, and nobody goes in. Lock's broken, you can just let yourself through the gate."

"Oh...thank you."

"No trouble." Faye leans back. "There you go! Now you match. You've got gorgeous hair!"

Rinea pats the little flowers. "Um...thanks. I...I wanted to ask you…"

"Ask away."

"Has this journey...have you learned what you wanted to learn yet?"

Faye's brow furrows. "About myself, you mean?"

"Yes."

"Well...I wouldn't say I'm done learning. I don't think anyone's ever really done learning." Faye picks a few leaves off her trousers. "But yeah...I think I'm doing better. I think I've gotten a better idea of what it's like...to live my own life. To just help people because I want to help people, and not because...because I'm trying to follow someone. And you?"

"I think I'm doing a little better, too," says Rinea. "Like...like you said. I'm still not sure who I am, or who I want to be, but I know...I know I want to be somebody good. Not...not who I was expected to be. And I'm making peace with that."

"That's good." Faye smiles at her. "I think we've both come a long way."

"I still...I still get stuck on things." Rinea looks down at her hands in her lap. "I feel like I keep wondering about...about my ex-fiancé. Trying to understand why he did what he did. Trying to understand how he felt. And trying to understand...how I felt too. Did he ever really love me? Or just the idea of me? And I...did I ever love him, or just the person I believed he was?"

"Yeah...I don't know if I was ever even in love with Al - with him. I was...in love with the idea of him, I think. In love with the idea of being in love. I didn't know what real love was." Faye watches Silque carefully cleaning a child's scraped knee. "But I'm starting to, now. Funny how people can be so stuck on something, or someone...that they don't notice what's right in front of them."

"I see," says Rinea carefully, trying to remind Faye of her presence.

"O-oh, right!" Faye sits up a little straighter. "U-um, anyway, I think getting away's been really great for me. And - and I get what you're saying about trying to understand things that can't always be understood. But...but we're getting better, right? Both of us."

"I think so." Rinea bites her lip. "I want to believe...I want to believe that I can be better. That the world can be a better place than it was. And that I can help make it that way. Is that...all right?"

"I think there's always room for hope in this world," says Faye. "And I think we should keep trying to give this world a little more of it."

"Yes...I want to keep trying." Rinea looks up at the sunset-tinged sky. "For you and Silque, and everyone who helped me...but also for myself. I want...I don't want to be alone or sad anymore. I want to be happier. I think...I think it's okay for me to be happy, now."

"Now you've got it!" Faye cheers. "And we'll be here to help you all the way."

"Thank you, Faye. Thank you, so much. I should thank Silque too…"

"You can thank her later! Besides, I'm sure she knows." Faye pats Rinea's shoulder. "Now come on, the last of the orange cobbler'll be gone while we sit here talking!"

"Right, right." Rinea lets herself be dragged to her feet and heads off to the dessert table with Faye.

It's true that Rinea's not wholly certain who she is yet. But she knows she's somebody who wants to help. She doesn't want to go back into the cage, where it's safe and warm and isolated, where she can't make any changes at all. She's certain of that.

And as laughter fills the air of the quiet little village, Rinea is surprised how light her heart can feel.

\---

As the sky darkens, things wind down. Children are carried off to bed, and people begin returning to their homes. Those that remain sit grouped together around tables, drinking wine and leaning back as they talk in quiet voices. The air has a thick, lazy, satisfied feel to it, a post-party haze. Rinea's lost sight of both Silque and Faye as she wanders between the tables, lit up by a few torches and the stars overhead.

She spies them sitting off to the side, on a bench shaded by a few houses. Rinea starts forward, but then stops. Faye and Silque are sitting very close together, and as Rinea watches, Faye cups Silque's face in her hands and leans in, and Rinea quickly averts her eyes and scurries away, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment.

Rinea will have to congratulate them later. Or perhaps wait until they've told her themselves. Either way, she's on her own for the evening.

Faye mentioned a secluded flower garden, didn't she? Rinea always did love gardens...She finds Faye's house and the wooden gate behind it just as indicated, and as Faye said it would, the gate creaks open with a push.

It's not half as elegant as the tall, brick-walled garden back at her old manor, with its elegant statues and tall bushes, but it's very pretty in the moonlight. Rinea lets the gate fall shut behind her as she steps inside. It's a nice feeling, just her and the flowers, daisies and marigolds and poppies peeping up through the earth and winding around an old wooden bench. There's no birds singing, not this late in the evening, but...

Rinea hasn't danced alone in a long time. Not once, not since she met him. She'd never felt the need to. But...but the moon is gentle in a deep blue sky, and the world isn't perfect but there's a place for her in it, and it's okay to do something silly, just for herself.

Rinea unlaces her boots and steps in bare feet over the tickling grass, out into the center, the moon radiant above her head. A few petals fall from the flowers still braided through her hair.

It won't always be easy. Life isn't. But...but that doesn't mean she can't find happiness anyway. Find happiness, and spread it. There's hope, and there's purpose, and Rinea's heart feels full.

She holds out her arms. She embraces the flame.

Alone in the garden, Rinea dances.

\---

_In the years after the war, Rinea traveled Valentia, healing the injured and helping the poor as she began to discover a world she'd never before known. Though scholars disagree as to whether she found true love or lived contentedly alone, they agree on one thing: her life was one of gentleness, joy, and peace._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title - "Keep On Walking," Gabrielle Aplin. Chapter titles - "After the Storm," Mumford and Sons. 
> 
> Writing this fic resulted in me deciding to do a full rewrite of Celica's route as well, which is part two of this series. You can read it at https://archiveofourown.org/works/19406260/chapters/46182088 if you're interested! Suddenly, Valentia dragged me in, and writing this made me realize how much I want to explore (and rewrite) Celica's story, haha. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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